


The Beast in Me

by Melodious329



Series: Blood in My Eyes [2]
Category: Angel: the Series RPF, Kane (Band), Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-18
Updated: 2011-04-18
Packaged: 2017-10-18 08:42:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melodious329/pseuds/Melodious329
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christian and Steve are adjusting to their new lives.  Christian has agreed to stay, but will they both be able to handle living with Christian's past?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beast in Me

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I neither own nor know the real persons after whom these characters were created. Title taken from song by Jim Byrnes
> 
> Sequel to Blood in My Eyes

Steve knew even as Christian gripped his hand as he kneeled on the kitchen floor that it wouldn’t be easy.

Christian had taken the first step, reached out his hand to Steve, agreed to stay, to try. But it wasn't the joyful, carefree moment that Steve had been imagining. And Steve was left wondering, what now? Looking at Christian sitting at the kitchen table wearing only his boxers, his hair a mess, dirt on his skin, Steve figured that he could at least take care of the mundane, take care of Christian like he had been doing. “You want to take a shower, clean that up?” Steve nodded his head at the wound on Christian’s chest now crusted with blood.

Christian was silent, averting his eyes as Steve pulled them both up to standing, not waiting for an answer he suspected wouldn't come. He waited for Steve to lead him by the hand upstairs to the bathroom. Steve didn’t think it coincidence that Christian seemed now as he had been that first morning that Steve had found the man in the bushes, lost inside his own head, waiting for Steve to make the first move. Christian was afraid, now of his future, and hurt and he needed Steve, even if he wouldn’t admit it. They would need time to get comfortable with each other again, time for Christian to get comfortable with himself again.

Steve turned on the shower. Then with reluctance, he turned to Christian to take the jewelry off, explaining softly, “Don’t want it to tarnish, but I’ll put them right back on when you’re done.” He didn't want Christian to think that he was taking the jewelry away permanently, like Christian didn't deserve the gift now that Steve knew about the man's past. Christian made no protest though, simply allowing himself to be maneuvered and the jewelry removed.

Taking the jewelry with him, Steve left Christian in the bathroom, wondering in vain what Christian was thinking. He went to get the first aid kit which was stored in the kitchen, cooking knives usually the only injury that Steve needed to worry about. Bringing it up to his bedroom, he sat on his bed to wait, knowing that Christian wasn’t singing in the shower today. His mind felt blank as he waited, exhausted. Steve dragged a hand through messy blonde curls, only then thinking to examine his own wrists. They were slightly bruised but they weren’t cut only scraped by the plastic ties, slivers of white skin hanging on that Steve picked off absently. Steve rubbed first one wrist then the other, the feel of the bruises completely surreal.

Steve dropped his hands as Christian entered the room, a towel wrapped around his waist because Steve hadn’t even bothered to get the man fresh boxers. Christian looked different than he had before. The man was still handsome despite the fresh marks on that body, but it was like Christian was suddenly Atlas holding up the weight of the world. The weight of Christian’s own past was heavy on him, curled his shoulders forward, bent his head so the dark, wet hair fell just slightly forward though Christian made no move to tuck it behind his ears.

Steve stood, ushering Christian to sit on the bed, encouraging the same behavior that he had tried to discourage when Christian had had amnesia. Then he had wanted Christian to show independence, but now he wanted Christian to learn to lean on him.

First he grabbed Christian's right wrist, the bruises deeper, darker even on tan skin, the few cuts were shallow. Satisfied, Steve put the bracelet back on. It felt greatly significant, more than just an adornment, the jewelry was an assurance that Steve wasn’t going to abandon him. He kneeled on the bed to put the necklace on, pulling the dark hair out after he fastened it.   
Steve dropped back to the floor to kneel between Christian's knees. “I have some hydrogen peroxide and bandaids, but no gauze or butterfly bandages or anything.” Steve’s voice was soft, hopefully comforting and not indecisive as he spoke out in the silence that seemed to surround them both since Christian's confession and Steve's pleading.

“Just cleaning it will be fine, it’s not too deep.” Christian was back to not looking him in the eye, but now instead of surveying the room, Christian simply looked at the floor. It was like he knew he couldn’t run any more. He couldn’t go back to what he had been doing before, but he wasn’t sure that he could stay here with Steve and go back to what they had before.

Steve poured the peroxide on cotton balls and carefully dotted them along the cut not that Christian even seemed to notice his gentleness. The cut was deeper than he had ever tried to take care of, but more than that it was so deliberate, the skin deliberately separated to cause pain. And still Christian didn't flinch, didn't protest. Christian didn’t look up until Steve had turned his face to throw the cotton balls in the trash, showing Christian the cheek that had been hit as he had come out of the bedroom earlier.

Then gentle, tentative fingers reached out to touch, making Steve think of the way that Christian had first held the guitar, like he was afraid that he would hurt Steve simply because of his nature, like he couldn't trust himself with something so precious. Steve turned his head to face the man but Christian’s fingers moved with him still stroking over what was probably a bruise, cornflower blue eyes intense.

“I’m sorry,” Christian choked out though his eyes still didn’t lift to Steve’s own blue eyes.

Steve grabbed that hand from his cheek and gripped it tight, his other hand going to Christian’s face to make the man look down at him. “It’s fine. It’s just a bruise, you act like I’ve never been hit before.” Steve tried a smile, trying to make Christian realize that the bruise was nothing, that Steve hadn’t actually been hurt because Christian had saved them both. He had been scared out of his mind, but Steve wasn’t going to mention that.

When it became clear that Christian was not going to discuss it further, he went back to the mundane. “Do you want to take a nap now or get something to eat?” Surprisingly it was still before noon, the entire ordeal having occurred in the early morning hours.

Christian was silent for a minute, his fingers flexing in Steve’s hand like they were itching to stroke Steve’s cheek again. But eventually Christian spoke, his voice rough and low. “Sleep.”

Steve leaned forward to kiss Christian’s swollen and split lips lightly and then stood, trying to be casual as he stripped off his t-shirt and threw it in the hamper. Christian sat and stared at first and Steve thought that there might have been lust in that gaze but he couldn’t be sure because then Christian was standing and stripping off the towel.

There was definitely lust in Steve’s own gaze, even though he wouldn’t be acting on it. But as Christian threw the towel towards the hamper, the man seemed to suddenly become self-conscious in a way that Steve had never seen.

“Sorry, is this…is this ok? I normally sleep nude and I didn’t think…”

Steve was moving towards him before he had even finished speaking. Rubbing Christian’s forearm, Steve pulled the sheet up and motioned for Christian to get in. Steve quickly dropped his pants and boxers to the floor so he could climb in right behind.

Christian tried to turn away again, though he should have known that showing Steve his back only made Steve curl around it. This time there was nothing between them, not even cotton boxers and it conjured the feelings of happiness that Steve had felt just prior to their abduction. Christian's presence soothed him as it had during their ordeal, Steve could still remember his panic when Christian had left him alone. Steve clung to the other man as much for his own comfort as Christian's. And even though Christian was at first tense again, soon he was relaxing into Steve’s arms and then into the arms of sleep.

Yes, Steve knew that it was going to be difficult, but he also believed that it would be worth it.  
\-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

When Steve woke, the sun was high, the room flooded with light and they had rearranged themselves. Christian had rolled to his stomach and Steve had followed, resting his cheek on a golden shoulder. It was the way Steve wished that he had woken up after they had had sex. Steve tried not to move, was simply laying there enjoying the feeling of being pressed close to Christian when he heard Christian’s stomach growl. It signaled that Christian was not only hungry but he was also awake.

Pushing up on his arms, Steve pressed several lingering kisses to the shoulder that he had been lying on before rolling to his side to speak, “So you want something to eat now?”

Christian slowly, deliberately turned his head on the pillow to face Steve and then pressed up on his own forearms, the gesture so smooth that Steve wondered how long the other man had been awake. Christian nodded though it was tired and unenthusiastic, certainly   
didn't acknowledge or return Steve's casual affection. Rolling away, Steve went naked to the dresser to get them both clean pairs of boxers and shorts out. He tossed a set to the other man who had sat up and was watching Steve get dressed as he had when he had had amnesia. Steve didn't stare as Christian finally got up, even though he wanted to.

Heading down the stairs was an odd experience, unlike earlier when he had rushed unthinking down to get first aid kit. In the bedroom, in the sunlight with Christian pressed close, the events of last night almost seemed a dream, but now...the memories were vivid, the feelings of terror returning. His home, his sanctuary had been violated.

Christian may have been lost in his own head but he must have sensed Steve's distress as they reached the bottom, his muscular arm wrapping around Steve's waist, pulling him close, safe and secure. Steve was grateful for that touch, for that concern as he looked over his living room. Some of his things were on the floor over where Christian had fought the attackers, his CDs and stereo and some knick-knacks. He reached behind him for Christian's arm, pulling at it to reach Christian's hand. Christian squeezed his hand in response as they walked over to survey the damage.

Most looked undamaged, their landing cushioned by the soft carpeting. One knick-knack though was broken, looking like it had been crushed underfoot. Christian was the first to kneel, looking over things with his free hand and Steve couldn't help notice his guilty, sorrowful expression as he did so. But as Steve kneeled down himself, Christian looked at him with a more sympathetic expression, his own shame superceded by his concern for Steve's loss. Again though, it wasn't about the bruise on Steve's cheek, not about the broken trinket, Steve was upset about having his home invaded, about being threatened. It was his sense of security that had been taken.

He released Christian's hand to pick up the stereo and putting it back on the shelf after checking it over. Christian was busy putting the little things back up. Steve reached for the broken pieces but Christian grabbed his hand, looking in his eyes intently like Christian hadn't since his confession. "It's gonna be ok. You're safe. I would never knowingly put you in danger."

Steve wanted to say that he didn't blame Christian, that he trusted Christian but then Christian's hand was on his face, gentle but firm as it gripped the back of his neck in a reassuring gesture. In that gesture Steve heard 'I'll protect you' and he believed it. He believed that even as he wanted to take care of Christian, Christian wanted to take care of him in Christian's own way.

Christian picked up the big pieces while Steve got the dust buster, cleaning up the little pieces of ceramic. But as soon as they were done, Steve was putting a hand on Christian's back, pushing him away into the kitchen. Steve was glad of Christian's help, believed in Christian's reassurances, but he wanted to concentrate on things that he could control, not wanting to wallow in his fear. This was his home and he would not be frightened here. So again, he focused on the mundane task of making the two of them a lunch.

"Ready for lunch?" Steve's voice sounded overly-cheerful even to himself.

As Steve went to the refrigerator, Christian latched onto the cup that had been left on the table much like he had clung to it for security before, Christian's confidence at being able to physically protect Steve fading into apprehension of his ability to be with Steve. Though now he had no problem getting out the pitcher to pour himself and Steve more water.

Steve wanted so badly to ask what specifically had happened to make Christian cling to water, wanted to ask about all of his behavior while he had amnesia but Steve stifled all his curiosity. He figured Christian needed some time to come to terms with things, and he probably wouldn’t appreciate Steve playing twenty questions and wanting him to relive everything. It was obvious without Christian having to come out and say it that Christian had been in difficult situations of scarce food and water, so it was no wonder that Christian had developed an odd relationship with the commodity.

He made them sandwiches while Christian sat practically unmoving at the table. Gone was that nervous energy that the man had had before. Steve didn’t think that it was gone forever, he just thought that Christian was feeling overwhelmed and upset, confirmed when Christian ran a frustrated hand through his damp hair.

Setting the plate in front of Christian, they ate in silence too and this was definitely not the silence that Steve liked. This was not the silence of people who didn't need to talk, but the silence of people who couldn't talk, the words hanging in the air between them unsaid. He reminded himself that he couldn’t push Christian too hard. Things couldn’t just pop back to the way that they were before. They might never be exactly the same.

They cleaned up the few dishes and then Steve was ushering Christian into the living room. “Let’s just go hang out on the couch for the rest of the day, ok?” Re-entering the living room, Steve felt better. He had picked up the pieces physically but perhaps metaphorically as well. And having Christian close helped quash his fear.

As Steve's mood improved, Christian's seemed to decline. Christian didn’t even nod to Steve's question, just let Steve push him into the room while holding onto his cup and sat down on his end of the couch, hunched over himself though he set the cup down. Steve debated just reading, leaving them in silence, but in the end, he decided to turn on the tv, putting it on something mindless but turning down the volume a little so that they could still easily have a conversation if Christian wanted to.

But it was ultimately Steve who began the conversation, unable to just sit there in silence, with Christian seeming so downtrodden. He wanted to reassure Christian of his place there. He wanted to reassure himself that Christian would stay.

“You know someone who can make you a new ID, right?”

Christian only glanced in Steve’s direction and then nodded. Steve had figured that he would, since Christian Kane was officially dead and the man had had to have documentation to go on these ‘jobs’, surely.

“Well the first things that you’ll need are your own clothes. Or do you have some that you can safely get to?”

Steve was alerted to Christian's deteriorating mood when he saw a muscle in Christian’s jaw jump, but he didn’t know why so he asked. “Christian?”

Christian shoved himself off the couch then, his body tight with tension as he rounded to look back at Steve. Steve knew that he was wearing a look of surprise and confusion which only seemed to aggravate Christian more.

“How can you just pretend that this morning never happened?! How can you just sit there, making plans for me to stay here after what I told you?!”

Two hands buried themselves in dark hair, pulling at the strands in his anger and frustration. And then dropping his hands, Christian was stalking off to the back door, the door slamming behind him.

The sound of the door slamming brought Steve out of his stupor and he was off the couch and going after the other man. He went out the back door to find Christian with his hands on the porch railing, simply leaning on them with his head hung down.

Steve knew that Christian was afraid, afraid of being with someone, of loving and caring for people, he was afraid that he would let Steve down, that he would screw up and Steve would reject him. What Steve didn’t know was what would soothe those fears besides time.

“Christian, I’m not ignoring it,” Steve started, reaching out a hand to place on Christian’s back, even more aware now of the scars that crossed it. “What I am doing is acknowledging that there is more to you than that. You should do the same.”

They stood there just like that for long minutes before Steve gave in to his need to be closer and wrapped his arms around Christian’s waist. Christian made a choked sobbing noise at the contact. “You deserve a second chance,” Steve said.

He didn’t do anything else, just stood there holding Christian. He knew that Christian didn’t think that he deserved love or comfort because of the things that he had done. But even though Christian hadn’t been abused, his trust had been. He had trusted that the pain that he both inflicted and endured was doing something good for his country and his family, and instead one day he had woken up to realize that he was nothing but a pawn in a game for money and power, an assassin. And then he had been abandoned to agony and death, to witnessing the agony and, ultimately, the death of those that he was closest to.

No, Steve wasn’t going to pretend that those things had never happened, but he did hate to think on them. He hated the thought of this man who only wanted to help his family hurting others and he hated the thought of Christian being tortured and humiliated, debased.

Eventually Christian gave a sigh and pushed off the railing, causing Steve to reluctantly let go of the other man. Christian nodded at Steve without looking him in the eye before he opened the back door and went back inside, Steve hot on his heels. They sat on the couch and watched the tv. Perhaps it was a bad idea to watch tv which gave them so much time to think, but Steve was loathe to suggest something to take their minds off things, particularly after Christian's earlier outburst. He was afraid that Christian actually needed the time to think.

But Steve still couldn’t handle the distance between them. Talking was obviously just making Christian upset, but so far the man had not drawn away from Steve’s physical closeness. So taking a chance, he laid down on the couch, his head on Christian’s nearest thigh.

Steve had to force himself not to tense up, not to hold his breath so that he could better hear any sound that Christian made. He relaxed, his one hand coming up to rest on Christian’s knee as he watched the program.

And then, then a hand came up to stroke through his own long curls. Hopefully the talking would come but for now Steve would take whatever he could get and this soft soothing reassurance wasn’t nothing.

The rest of the afternoon watching tv was spent in that same oppressive silence, the only solace was in their physical proximity, Steve’s head on Christian’s lap, Christian's hand moving reassuringly through Steve's hair. When dinnertime came, Steve was only too happy to have something to do. Too bad he wasn't hungry for a full meal and Christian was so lost in his own thoughts that he barely noticed when Steve set down a plate of sandwiches in front of him again. Christian just ate his sandwich as if he couldn't even taste it, as if he didn't know what to do with himself in Steve's life besides to follow where Steve led.

They watched tv for the rest of the evening too, this time Steve sitting on his own side of the couch. As much as Steve wanted to cling to Christian, he didn't want to scare Christian off, didn't want Christian to think that he had to always be touching the other man. It was little comfort that Christian wasn't clinging to the cup and was instead twirling the bracelet around his wrist, some of his fidgeting coming back though his movements still seemed weighted down. The night seemed to drag on forever but soon enough, Steve was taking Christian’s hand again and leading him upstairs. They brushed their teeth and stripped off the few clothes that they were wearing. Christian even averted his eyes when Steve got undressed though Steve couldn't tell whether that was just because he was again trying not to look at Steve at all.

In bed, Steve could once again give into his need to hold Christian close, to reassure himself that Christian was trying. And this time when they slid under the sheets, Christian willingly complied with Steve’s attempt to snuggle, moving easily when Steve tugged on his arm to lie across Steve’s chest, face down to Steve’s face up, Christian’s face on Steve’s shoulder this time. It was easy and comfortable but it didn’t last.

Steve wasn’t surprised that Christian would have nightmares, not ever but particularly not now when Christian was so scared of changing, scared of attempting to be better and healthier and happier only to fail, scared of letting someone else down when he did. It made sense that it would bring to mind other times when Christian had felt scared and trapped.

Steve figured that, really, he was lucky that Christian dreamt of being restrained because it meant that Christian did not in fact attack Steve for being in the bed with him. Christian didn’t flail out violently. Steve woke to feel Christian only twitching and whimpering on his chest, his sweaty body rubbing against Steve’s in a desperate way that Steve didn’t find the least bit arousing.

Still being underneath a man in the midst of a nightmare who could easily kill him, Steve didn’t call Christian’s name out loudly to get him to wake up. Instead, Steve rubbed his hands up and down Christian’s back and whispered comforting, meaningless words into the man’s hair.

After long heart-wrenching moments, Christian settled down. Steve would have thought that Christian had simply settled back into a more restful sleep except that Christian’s hands clutched Steve’s skin where before they had simply been resting.

But Steve didn’t say anything, didn’t ask what the dream was about. He figured that they would have plenty of time for that later, at least that was the plan, but for now, he was more interested in Christian simply learning to trust him, to lean on him and accept his comfort. He held Christian tight as they both tried to relax into sleep again. Still Steve didn't think that he was ignoring Christian's problems, he was giving Christian time. Even though, he felt like the silence was so loud it was keeping him awake.

In the morning they woke in the same positions. Though Christian's face was buried in his neck, he knew that Christian was already awake by the sound of the man's breathing. Steve had learned at this point what Christian’s breath sounded like asleep, at least asleep with bruised ribs which, at this rate, Christian would have bruised ribs for the rest of his life.

Christian must have realized that Steve was awake now as well as Steve felt the rasp of Christian’s stubble on his chest as the man moved slightly. He shivered as he felt it again, this time Christian deliberately rubbed it against him before pushing up on his forearms to look down at Steve. Christian's expression was heavy-lidded but less weary, intent and assessing.

Steve didn’t know what Christian was looking for or what he found in Steve’s face. But as they stared at one another, Steve simply took in the sight above him. The sunlight streaming in from the windows gilded Christian's skin and dark wavy hair mussed from sleep framed his face, with half open eyes and stubble, Christian looked adorably rumpled.

Straining to lift his face upwards, Steve presented his lips for a kiss, a smile appearing after Christian leaned down to give him one. Even if then Christian was crawling off of Steve, standing up and rooting through Steve’s drawers for clean boxers. Steve pushed himself up on his elbows to watch. Christian unselfconsciously naked was par for the course but now he was taking the initiative to get things for himself. Steve knew that it was a good sign, that he must be pretty secure of Steve’s feelings and acceptance at least at the moment. But Steve had to again stifle his feelings of curiosity that yearned to ask why Christian had been afraid to do so when he had had amnesia.

Christian even threw a pair of boxers at Steve still on the bed and then he led the way downstairs in just that. Christian opened the refrigerator, but faltered there, scanning the contents. He didn't object when Steve reached past him, grabbing some ingredients. Christian just grabbed the water pitcher and poured them two fresh glasses. Breakfast was still made and eaten in silence, and Christian didn’t offer to help or complain about being cooked for. Steve took that as a sign that Christian was still hesitant, still far too wrapped up in his own thoughts and worries, but since in this case there was much to think about, Steve let him be.

He was surprised though, when Christian put down his fork half-way through the meal, apparently having come to some sort of decision.

“So we’re really doing this?” Christian asked, his gruff voice sounding both resigned and expectant.

“If by this you mean you staying here and doing something besides hurting yourself and others, then yes, we are.” Christian was always looking for some sign outside of Steve's words and Steve could only hope that all of his conviction showed in his face and voice.

Christian nodded, more to himself than anything it seemed. “I need to use your phone.”

“Uhh, sure, it’s uh…” Steve stood awkwardly as it became apparent that Christian wanted the phone now, meant to start building this new life right that very minute. Going into the living room to get the phone, he waved Christian who was right behind him in its direction. It was disconcerting to have Christian suddenly take such control again, here in his home. Intellectually Steve knew that Christian's earlier submissive behavior had been the result of an extraordinary situation but it was something that he would have to get used to, particulalry since Christian had had such a complete and unexpected turnaround.

Christian picked up the cordless phone but then simply stood there, waiting Steve eventually figured out for Steve to leave the room. As he went back to the kitchen, Steve thought some sarcastic words about Christian maybe becoming too comfortable if it included ordering him around, but he kept his tongue, not wanting to discourage Christian from taking the first steps toward freedom.

So Steve sat back at the table and finished his breakfast, wondering exactly how different Christian's behavior would be with his memory intact. He cleaned his plate and then tossed the rest of Christian’s food, guessing that the other man was finished as well, and put the dishes in the washer. Then he waited, sipping another cup of coffee, giving Christian privacy since it was pretty clear that Christian didn’t want Steve involved in this. And, really, Steve was ok with that.

When Christian re-entered the kitchen, he was fully dressed in jeans and a t-shirt even wearing a pair of flip flops and that was strange because Steve hadn’t even heard the man go up the stairs. Christian didn’t explain the phone call and Steve didn’t ask, Christian just said, “I’ll take the van and ditch it.”

Steve stood immediately, abandoning his coffee. “Yeah, the keys are here in the front hall.” He picked them up from their place on the hallway table. Though he was certain of the answer, he decided to ask anyway. “You want me to come with you?”

Christian’s expression actually seemed pained at Steve’s query and he shook his head sadly. “No, I don’t want you anywhere near these people. I’ll take care of it.”

Steve nodded but he couldn’t get his mouth to shut up. “But how will you get back here after you ditch the car?”

“Don't worry about anything. I’ll find a way and no one will ever know about you or this place.”

The words were meant to soothe and they did, Steve trusted that Christian would do everything to keep he could to keep Steve safe Though Steve was still worried, he knew that he had to accept the answer, had to accept that Christian knew what he was doing and that there was nothing that he could do to help. But before Christian could leave Steve was grasping his arm again. “Wait, you’re gonna keep Christian Kane as your name right?”

Christian turning his face away was all the answer that Steve needed. “Why not?”

But Christian wouldn’t answer, wouldn’t look at him, and simply shook his head. Wrapping his arms around the man’s waist, Steve pulled the slightly smaller form against his own. “Please, even if the ID is fake, I want you to have your real name. I don’t want you to hide from your past just because you’re making a new start.”

Christian nodded, but didn’t verbally agree. Still Steve let him go because in the end, this was Christian’s decision. Opening the door, Christian looked back at him with dark, brooding eyes before he disappeared, shutting the door behind him.

Leaving Steve alone in his house for the first time since Christian had come into his life, and more than that it was the first time that they had been separated since their kidnapping when Christian had climbed out of their cell to rescue them.

Intellectually Steve knew that the circumstances were different, Christian didn’t crawl out in an air vent this time, he had left in a van. He was perfectly safe, well, as safe as any person was in a car on California roads and, really, Steve told himself, thinking about the prevalence of car accidents wasn’t helping.

But still, who knew what kind of person or persons Christian was going to meet. Steve had no way to get in touch with Christian if he were gone an inordinately long time. He should have given Christian his cell phone but God knew that he wasn't thinking clearly. And of course Steve was of the opinion that Christian had already been gone too long. Reluctantly Steve moved away from the door.

As he looked on his empty living room, Steve admitted that he was not only scared for Christian, Steve was scared without Christian, despite that Christian had assured him time and again, that no one else would be invading his home. Well, not unless it was just a regular home invasion. That was it, Steve thought, he needed to do something to quit thinking about all the what ifs. Making a decision, Steve made his way back upstairs. It was as good a time as any to take a shower and hopefully the routine of it would help keep his mind from imagining any and all possible horrible outcomes to Christian walking out that door.

The shower was short, however. Steve didn’t take any extra time to feel the water rain down on his skin or let the warmth soothe him. And he didn’t masturbate despite that he wasn’t sure when or if Christian would feel like doing anything sexual again. He was too worried, not only about Christian’s immediate safety but about Christian’s state of mind. And Steve was worried that he himself would screw up, that he wouldn’t be what Christian needed to really make a go of a new life. He worried about Christian giving up and bailing, leaving him behind.

And he hurried through his shower so that he would be waiting when Christian got back, no matter when that was. Steve stepped out of the shower, rubbing the towel through his hair and then over his body. He hung the towel back up and walked naked the short distance to his room. Not knowing what other activities that Christian would insist on getting done today, Steve put on jeans and boxers but left off a t-shirt.

After combing his hair, Steve made his way back to the living room and, fuck, that room definitely felt odd without Christian’s presence in it. Empty, it was almost eerie now where it had seemed so normal prior to Christian’s arrival. Not knowing what he could do to amuse himself, Steve picked up the book that he had been trying to read since that first morning that Christian had appeared.

The Magus was actually a pretty good book, definitely engrossing in its depiction of a young man in love and in over his head, caught in a crazy situation and feeling like he was going insane. Steve could relate.

Christian opened the door three hours after leaving and Steve was beyond happy to see him. So happy that Steve dropped the book without marking the page as he stood. He restrained himself from rushing at Christian like a puppy though, just barely.

Christian seemed nervous, self-conscious like he was unsure of his welcome now that he was himself, now that he came with baggage and Steve supposed that was literal because Christian was now holding a duffel bag on his shoulder.

Steve wanted to show Christian that he was welcome without being overly emotional so he simply said with a shrug, “I wasn’t worried.”

Christian grinned, just a little one that tilted up the corners of his mouth. “I, uh, managed to get some of my clothes too. If that’s ok?”

“That’s great. We can go put them away.” Steve immediately started up the stairs, thinking that the sooner Christian got settled into a routine, the more comfortable the man would feel.

“I’ll just move some of my stuff over,” Steve said as they reached the top of the staircase, heading towards his bedroom.

“Are you sure? I can just put my stuff in the guest room. I don’t want to put you out.”

Steve turned to look at the other man who stood hovering in the doorway. He stepped up close, his bare chest against Christian’s clothed one, his breath puffing out onto Christian’s full lips. Slowly Steve leaned in and kissed the man, slow and gentle in deference to the still-healing split lip.

“I want us to be together, not just live in the same house.” Stepping back a little so that he could gauge Christian’s reaction, Steve continued, “Is that what you want?”

Christian’s eyelashes fluttered suspiciously though Steve couldn’t see if it was because of sudden wetness. “Yes, I do, I just…” Christian’s voice was steady despite the emotion in it and Steve knew what words were on the end of that sentence that Christian couldn’t say, ‘I’m scared’. Christian didn’t trust himself, but as the saying went, ‘the only way to know if you can trust a man, is to trust him’. And Steve was willing to take that chance.

So Steve dropped a hand to grab Christian’s wrist, his right wrist with the bracelet still around it and pulled Christian into the room. “So…do you need hangers?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Christian’s tiny grin make another appearance. Christian put the duffel down on the bed and tucked the long strands of his hair behind his ears before he opened it. “Yeah, a few,” Christian said.

So Steve found a few hangers for the other man, stuffed his stuff to one side of a few drawers. Steve’s previous thoughts about the man trying to look nondescript seemed to be justified. Christian brought out a couple of plain button downs, a couple of flannel buttons downs, t-shirts, tanks, boxer-briefs, and jeans. No pajamas, no shorts, nothing bright or interesting or colorful or personal, the t-shirts didn’t even have writing on them.

Except for a pair of cowboy boots that came out of the bag last. Steve literally grabbed them out of Christian’s hands to look them over. They had scuff marks and creases and so were obviously well-worn and well-loved.

“You from Texas?” Steve asked with a smile.

Christian smiled back. “I was born there, but I mostly grew up in Oklahoma.”

“Ahh, the accent is explained then.” The lighthearted teasing felt good as well as the sharing of a memory like it was a gem, like   
Christian's memory of pancakes.

Putting the boots in the bottom of the closet, Steve couldn’t help asking, “Can I see the ID?’

Christian drew a plain brown leather wallet out of the back of the jeans that he was wearing, jeans that belonged to Steve. Out of the wallet, Christian drew out an ID, passing it to Steve.

“Christian Michael Kane,” Steve read.

Christian practically blushed. “It’s my real name,” he confirmed. “I went ahead and got health insurance, too.”

Steve knew that Christian was just changing the subject, but he let that go too, for now. “Yeah? Tomorrow, you should come with me to the gym, join up. It’s the best one around here, everyone uses it.”

Christian nodded absently, not terribly excited but Steve was convinced that it would be a good way to relieve some of that tension that followed Christian around. And if the nervous energy that Christian had had before came back, it would take care of that too.

“And I moved some accounts around. I have money and I’ll pay you back for everything…”

Steve cut him off, “I told you it’s fine, Christian. Really.”

Reluctantly Christian nodded and then sat down next to Steve. “Well, from now on you don’t have to pay for everything. I don’t have…I’m not a millionaire or anything. I don’t have as much money as you might think for an international thief.”

Thankful that Christian was actually talking about it, Steve tried to keep the man going. “Yeah, so what’d you spend it on?”

He was trying to be funny but again it fell flat as Christian’s face darkened and broad shoulders shrugged. “I sent some to my family…and you wouldn’t believe the kinds of expenses you have just doing that kind of thing.”

Steve had a feeling he didn’t want to believe what kind of expenses it took, monetary or otherwise. He tried to redirect things. “So what do you want to do now?”

Christian looked over at him with that familiar confused expression.

“Did you have like a childhood ambition to be a fireman or an astronaut or an accountant? What do you want to do now?”

But Christian just shrugged again. It gave Steve the opening that he had been hoping for. “Well, you don’t have to decide now or anything, take as long as you want. You could go to school or whatever, but I was thinking…” Steve’s palms were suddenly sweating, telling him how important this suggestion was to him. “I was thinking we could make a band.”

Silence, long and painful. Then Christian looked over at him again and since Steve didn’t see complete rejection in that gaze he just kept babbling. “I mean we sounded fantastic at the bar, everyone thought so and we could just get a couple other guys…”

“I don’t know,” Christian’s voice sounded strained as he interrupted.

“Sorry, I got carried away. But think about it. You don’t have to decide now, and we could continue practicing the guitar just for fun.”

“Ok,” Christian made a show of sounding exasperated but really seemed amused by Steve’s enthusiasm. “I’ll think about it.”

There was silence then as Christian looked over Steve’s face. “So any more errands you want to run today?”

Christian didn’t respond in words, simply leaned in to kiss Steve. And even though Steve wanted to just melt into the kiss, just quit thinking, he couldn’t help pulling away as Christian’s tongue licked over the seam of his lips looking for entrance.

“Are you sure?” Steve knew that the question sounded stupid, but with everything that had happened recently he had to ask.

“Do you want to?” Christian answered with a question, his bright blue eyes now dark with arousal.

“Yes,” Steve answered truthfully and this time when Christian leaned back in for a kiss, Steve opened his mouth eagerly.

Christian’s hands were firm on Steve’s face, tilting it just so before they slid down Steve’s bare chest and then over his jean clad thighs. Then those strong but graceful hands were dipping between Steve’s thighs, moving them apart with gentle pressure. Steve gasped into Christian’s mouth at the simple but erotic feeling.

Then Christian was up and moving, positioning himself between Steve’s now spread legs as his body pressed Steve down into the mattress. Those hands were on the move again this time up over his hips to the button of his jeans as Christian’s mouth kept Steve occupied. Steve had just enough brain cells left to scrabble at Christian’s back, pulling up the man’s t-shirt.

By then, Christian had unbuttoned and unzipped Steve’s jeans so he sat up, finishing the removal of his t-shirt but pushing on Steve’s chest to keep Steve on the bed. Christian batted Steve’s hands away as he pulled Steve’s jeans off himself, taking the boxers with them as Steve obligingly lifted his hips.

Steve was particularly distracted when standing, Christian then pushed down his own jeans and boxers. Climbing on the bed again, Christian placed one knee between Steve’s still spread legs, straddling one thigh as he lowered himself onto Steve. Steve’s arms were quick to wind themselves around Christian’s waist, pulling the man closer, wanting to feel every inch of that tan skin. Christian smoothed his hands down Steve’s arm, thumb pressing unerringly into the hickey that he had left on Steve’s inner bicep.

Steve gave in as Christian’s mouth moved from his lips to his jaw, relaxing into the other man’s ministrations. He turned his head, making it easier for Christian to nip at his ear and the soft skin below it. Christian’s skin dragged on Steve’s own as Christian moved down to his chest, Christian’s erection dragging over the hair on Steve’s thigh. As Christian’s tongue flicked against Steve’s rapidly tightening nipple, his hands were spreading Steve’s thighs even further and moving from straddling Steve’s leg to kneeling between Steve’s legs.

The hands moved up again, one hand cupping Steve’s balls in a warm, wide palm, rolling them carefully in their thin-skinned sack. The other hand moved behind to probe between Steve’s cheeks. Steve’s knees bent without thought, only wanting to give that hand more access, to let that finger probe deeper.

He couldn’t help the whine that escaped his mouth as Christian moved away, removed his hand and his tongue from Steve’s body.

“Just getting the necessities,” Christian soothed and if there was a smile in Christian’s country-accented voice, Steve was gonna let it pass for now.

Because then the hand was back, slick as a finger pressed in, thick and probing.

“Ungh,” Steve cried in surprised pleasure. But Christian just pressed in another finger and pressed small comforting kisses to Steve’s chest.

The burn and stretch of intimate muscles was just a tease that had Steve longing for something thicker, longer, warmer. When the fingers were removed, Steve pulled his own legs to his chest, unselfconscious in his need.

Christian’s cock that had felt thick and perfect in his hands and his mouth, felt even bigger as it popped through the first ring of muscle in his ass. His arms reached for Christian, tried to pull the man further in, tried to wrap his legs around Christian’s waist, but Christian resisted, continued his long, slow glide while his hands kept Steve pinned to the bed. One hand was on Steve’s shoulder, the other held up Steve’s thigh, letting only Steve’s other leg wrap around him.

It was strange to be so controlled, kept so still as he was breached and yet, also amazing as Christian pulled back and then thrust in, angling his thrusts so that each slid past Steve’s prostate, the angle that Steve preferred to a direct hit.

But it was slow, too slow even though it was hard and deep. Steve whined deep in his throat and bucked up against the restraining hands, needing it faster, needing more, needing Christian to falter and lose that iron control.

Christian responded to the whine but not in the way that Steve had intended. He released Steve’s leg and lowered his chest onto Steve, his weight now keeping Steve just as still. But then Christian lowered his lips and that was good, Christian let his lips slide wet and sloppy against Steve’s even as his hips never faltered. That and the friction of his cock sliding against Christian’s stomach slick with sweat did it for Steve and he tensed beneath Christian’s weight, groaning his release into Christian’s eager mouth.

Christian broke the kiss then, thrusting deep once, twice more before burying his face in Steve’s neck, his hips jerking with release though he made no sound. Almost as soon as his hips stopped, he was getting up, kneeling up and pulling out with care.

Suddenly free to move, Steve stretched out, watching as Christian pulled the condom off his softening dick. Shaking his hair out of his face, Christian tossed the used condom into the trash and then flopped onto the bed on Steve’s other side. Steve followed, almost instinctually turning toward Christian. He didn’t curl in, not yet, he let the sweat cool on his skin.

But after long moments during which panting breaths slowed and heated skin cooled, Steve reached down, pulling the sheets over them both as he moved closer to Christian, throwing his limbs over the other man and resting his cheek on a shoulder.   
\-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Steve opened his eyes much later to find himself alone in bed. It was disconcerting to say the least. Steve tried not to consider the worst, tried not to even think that Christian had left, snuck away while Steve slept, that the sex had been goodbye. But Steve was up out of the bed in a second, pulling on his boxers and then hurrying downstairs.

He was only halfway down the stairs when the sounds and smells coming from the kitchen hit him and he slowed his pace, not wanting Christian to see the panic on his face, not wanting Christian to think that he didn’t trust him. It was becoming obvious that it wasn’t only Christian who would need to get used to this new situation, who would need time to get comfortable again. So instead, Steve headed to the downstairs bathroom, ridding himself of the sticky feel of dried cum.

After that and a few deep breaths, Steve went into the kitchen, finding Christian standing at the stove watching something sizzle in a pan there. He watched a moment as Christian bent to take a sheet from the oven.

“Are those biscuits?” Steve said, stepping into the room.

Christian stiffened for a moment at the intrusion, but then he relaxed, putting the sheet down on the counter and then turning to greet Steve with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Christian was wearing the red bandanna again and there was flour covering a little of the bruises on his face.

“That they are.”

Steve wanted to throw himself into the man’s arms, relief still churning in his gut, but he didn’t. “I’m obviously going to have to keep you then,” he said instead.

He watched in fascination as Christian flushed at the praise, turning back to the sizzling pan. Christian even with his memories was a contradiction, he was strength and weakness, vulnerable yet prickly, confident but afraid. Steve wrapped his arms around the man’s waist from behind, looking at what Christian was making over the man’s shoulder. “Country cooking?” Steve asked.

Christian shrugged. “My momma taught me.”

Steve waited for the man to elaborate, but when he didn’t, Steve asked, “Well, I’m guessing that you didn’t make this while in the Army, so did you make it for your sister?”

Christian nodded and then broke Steve’s hold on him so that he could move away to take the biscuits off the sheet. Steve was fairly certain that it was just an excuse to move away though. There was a frown turning down Christian’s lips as he said, “It was hard for her after Dad’s death, and then we had to make ends meet. Sometimes she worked through dinner, sometimes I had to.”

“She was lucky to have you.”

Christian stiffened at the words, but went about cooking. Steve had never made gravy but it looked ready and not like it needed to be stirred quite that vigorously. “Sit down,” Christian said. “It’s about ready.”

Steve sat down at a table already set, two glasses of water waiting. Christian served up the plates and everything was delicious. Steve really should have kept his mouth shut instead of ruining the dinner.

“You know where they are? Your mother and sister?”

Christian’s posture stiffened again, his hand freezing as it speared a piece of meat. “Yes,” he said simply.

“But they still think you’re…” Steve trailed off, not able to say the word dead.

“Yes.” Christian only pushed the food around his plate after that.

And Steve only sat there trying to wrap his head around that fact. It seemed so cruel but he thought that he understood why Christian had done it. Who knew how long it had taken Christian to escape and then Christian had probably felt ashamed, trapped not by the Army this time but by his own past, by his own actions.

After dinner Steve convinced Christian to practice on the guitar some more, wanting to keep the music fresh in his mind. Christian wasn’t able to get the same release that Steve did out of playing since he was still figuring the chords out, but Steve thought it would be a good distraction as it took up all of Christian’s concentration.

It worked for a time, but when they went to bed, Steve spooned up behind Christian, the nightmares came back with a vengeance. Christian shuddered like he was having a seizure and whined high and keening, making little motions like he was trying to get away. Steve tried to soothe him, rubbing his hands soothingly over Christian’s flesh for what seemed like hours before Christian finally woke. Then Christian simply curled more into himself.

Steve didn’t ask about the nightmares again that night, figuring that he had done enough damage at dinner. He just followed Christian, holding the man tighter until they both dropped off to sleep again.

*************************************

In the morning, when the sweat had dried and breathing slowed, when they woke all snuggled together in bed, in their bed, Steve still didn't say anything about Christian's nightly activities. It was so easy to forget, to put off when it all seemed so normal, like every relationship that Steve had ever had. Steve just nuzzled his face into the back of Christian’s neck for a moment and got up to make them a light breakfast, Christian following stoically behind. There was still silence, but it was less opressive as this morning they had something to do somewhere to go. After quickly eating, they then got dressed for the gym. Christian did have a pair of tennis shoes but no shorts so Steve loaned the man a pair. Christian removed the jewelry himself, placing it on the dresser. It made Steve feel vaguely uneasy to see it there instead of on tan skin.

It also reminded Steve to look down at his own wrists, to look into the mirror quickly so Christian wouldn't know what he was looking at and wondering how noticeable the bruises were. The bruises had defnitely faded, yellowing at the edges but they weren't unnoticeable. Discreetly looking at Christian's wrists, Steve thought it looked like they had gotten up to some very kinky games, and then there was Christian's face...But there wasn't anything to be done about it. Maybe Steve should have put some aloe on them, tried to rub out the blood that had settled under his skin, but he hadn't thought of it and hadn't wanted to bring Christian's attention to it.

Sighing, Steve put his hair up in a low pony tail again, but as he glanced in the mirror, he saw that Christian had put his up in a high half ponytail. Steve knew why, knew that it was a compromise, to keep the strands off of his face even though it meant that they would be on his neck, but Steve thought that it was too cute. He couldn’t help leaning over Christian as the other man was tying his shoes, giving Christian a kiss on the forehead and swatting the ponytail.

“Aww, your hair’s so cute like that,” Steve said teasingly.

Christian attempted a glare, but it was weak, like Christian wasn't really in the mood for teasing but was trying to Steve's sake. Not knowing what else to do, Steve just kept the smile on his face even as it began to feel plasticy, faking it for Christian's benefit. As they headed off to the gym, Steve was still hoping that some exercise would make Christian feel better.

And Steve was a little excited for them to be out of the house together again. The night at the bar had gone well, it was just the afterward that was a problem. But even as they drove there, Christian wasn't excited or nervous or anything that Steve could tell, nothing like he had been when they had driven to the bar. And, ok, it was just the gym, but...Steve felt like everything, every second that Christian stayed was a step in the right direction.

Walking in, Steve noticed how aware Christian was of his surroundings. One might think that he was only checking the place out as a newcomer, but Steve saw the stiffness in the other man’s posture, the way that his eyes catalogued not only the building but the other people as well, suspicious of them as he sized everyone up like they were an obstacle.

When they got to the front desk, however, Christian was nothing short of charming. It was Steve who had first approached, telling the girl there that his friend wanted to sign up as a new member, but her attention focused squarely on Christian as he walked up to the counter, smiling wide and leaning his elbows on the counter. To be fair, Christian didn’t do a lot to garner her attention, it was simply that charming smile, that ‘aw shucks’ country boy attitude that seemed to be doing it, but…

It was Steve’s first glimpse at the possessiveness he felt about the other man. It wasn’t really that he was jealous of the girl, it was just the loss of Christian’s undivided attention perhaps. Of course, Christian had met the guys, but then there hadn’t been even an undercurrent of flirtation. It brought back Steve’s fears that if Christian had other choices, maybe he wouldn’t want to be with Steve. Not that Steve thought that Christian was using Steve to help him get back into society, but…there just was a niggling doubt in the back of Steve’s mind that Steve knew he had to get a hold of before it got out of control and ruined everything.

Particularly when Christian turned back to Steve with a membership card and that smile that said ‘aren’t you proud of me’. Steve smiled back but he knew that it looked forced. Maybe a workout wouldn’t just be good for Christian to release some stress.

He led Christian upstairs to the cardio machines and they did twenty minutes of running to get warmed up and increase their heart rates. There wasn’t a lot of talking obviously but for perhaps the first time since Christian's memories had resurfaced, Steve felt connected to the other man even as they were separate. And Christian smiled as they got off, easy and wide, obviously glad of the exercise. And if Steve were honest, he was also happy because Christian had barely even glanced at the sweaty men or scantily-clad women that had passed by them.

Making their way into the weight room, they started off on free weights together, but soon Christian was flitting off to other areas of the room. Steve let the other man go, concentrating on his own workout, but soon Christian would return to Steve’s side. Steve smiled as it became a pattern, Christian moving away and then coming back, whether to use what Steve was using or to simply make comments on the other people exercising, the girl who only used three pound weights, the guy who thought he was so tough as he dropped his weight to clang as they hit the floor.

It felt so normal. It was so easy to forget what Christian was capable of, to imagine that Christian only had those muscles for vanity and health reasons and fucking home improvement or something. At the end, Christian joined him on the mats to stretch.

Steve drove them home, Christian more relaxed in the passenger seat, more at ease. Steve felt a little proud of himself if he did say so himself. And when they walked in, Steve putting the keys in their usual place on the hallway table, Christian told him to have the first shower, offering to make lunch. It was a sweet gesture, and showed that Christian was becoming more and more comfortable in Steve's house, with Steve's things. But before going upstairs, Steve pulled Christian in for a moist kiss, sweat slick skin making contact. The fact that Christian turned away quickly, not making eye contact as he made his way quickly into the kitchen, only barely registered to Steve as odd.

But it could just be Christian wanting to eat soon, so Steve showered quickly not wanting Christian to have to wait for him. He wandered downstairs in shorts with still dripping hair to find Christian just sticking a bowl in the fridge.

“Oh, I made pasta salad. It’s just cooling in the fridge,” Christian explained. Then he hurried up for his own shower, sliding past Steve in the doorway but making certain that they didn't touch.

Steve was just settling down to wait with a cup of water when the phone rang. It was his manager wanting Steve to meet at his office the next morning. Steve realized then that it was time to get back to the grind. He loved to play but he loved it even more when it paid the bills.

Christian reappeared, wet with shorts on, shorts of Steve’s that he had obviously scrounged out of a drawer. Steve had to admit to himself that he liked that Christian seemed so enamored of wearing his clothes even now that Christian had some of his own. And Christian had put the jewelry back on himself.

Christian went to the refrigerator as Steve pulled out plates and forks, both men dancing around each other, moving in concert. As they sat down to eat, Steve brought up the phone call. “I have to go meet with my manager tomorrow morning. You want to just stay here?”

Blue eyes finally looked up at him, showing surprise that faded into studied blankness. “Well, I could go to the gym while you’re there. I mean, unless you wanted me to wait for you to go, if you weren’t planning on going again…” Christian tapered off as his words got more confused and he more frustrated with them.

“No, I wasn’t planning on going tomorrow.” In general, Steve went three or four times a week, but now he understood why Christian didn’t seem to be working all of the muscle groups. He probably went six times a week, any more than that and the guy would be too bulky.

“How about you drop me off at my manager’s and you can go to the gym and take a shower and meet me back at his office and we can go out to lunch?”

There was no hesitation as Christian nodded in agreement, even though Steve had been worried about how Christian would feel about driving around in Steve's car, performing everyday activities without Steve there. He had thought that had been the surprise that had been in Christian's eyes, but the man didn't seem now to have a problem with it. And, really, it wasn't as if Christian was a child who needed Steve to hold his hand. Steve also thought that maybe they would eventually need to get another car but for now Steve was glad that they were tied together in a way. He had no fear that Christian would drive away in his car. Christian would definitely need a cell phone though.

Speaking of which, “You can take my cell with you this time and I’ll call you on it if the time changes.”

Again Christian showed no excitement or hesitation, simply nodded and then went about cleaning up their plates.

Steve figured that this time he actually needed to get out the guitar and do some work on it. He didn't even ask the other man, just got out two guitars, giving one to Christian as Steve set about searching where he had left pencils and paper and the notes that he had made on the road. Coming back into the room with his prizes, he saw Christian bent over his guitar, intent on the activity. Steve was convinced that Christian would be a great musician and he certainly seemed to be enamored of playing, so he had to wonder what it was that prevented Christian from accepting his offer to create a band. But he didn't want to push Christian. Steve himself was a little apprehensive at tying their lives completely together, as partners in bed and business, so he busied himself fiddling around with some of the new stuff that he had thought of on the road.

But as they both played and it felt comfortable again, Steve forgot himself, forgot that he was walking on eggshells and the words just spilled out. “You ever think about writing songs?”

Christian looked up from the sheet music that he was studying with a confused glance. “Uhhh, well, you know,” Christian blushed, embarrassed by whatever he was thinking of sharing. “When I was a teen, I may have played around with it a little.”

“Even though you didn’t get to play any instruments?” Steve continued, feeling better about asking since Christian always seemed more willing to talk about his family years.

Christian looked away. “My cousin played. He’s a country singer. We didn’t see each other that frequently but it gave me ideas.”

Steve wanted to just drop his precious guitar and squeeze Christian in a tight hug. ‘His cousin gave him ideas’ like playing music was just some crazy fantasy like joining the circus that Christian couldn’t indulge in because he had needed to support his family. Christian had needed to be making money right away, he couldn’t have afforded to go to college or pursue music and not be bringing in any money that he could send back.

“You should try it again. I can help put it to music and what not. It might reacquaint you with your country roots.”

Steve had said it half in jest, at least the last part, but for a moment, Christian seemed to be really thinking it over. His hands moved from playing the instrument to simply stroking over its laquered curves. That right there was why Steve had suggested the band. Because from the first moment that Christian had set his eyes on the guitar, he had seemed in love with it. And, so far, he hadn't shown any interest in anything else, though, Steve feared that might simply be because he had not been exposed to anything else, to anyone else. As sure as Steve was that Christian would be great in a band, Steve just had these niggling doubts running through his mind about everything. What if he were holding Christian back? What if Christian would be happier, healthier, what if Christian could be more if he had been found by someone else?

They played around on the instruments the rest of the night, Christian even singing some old songs. But at the end of the day, Christian crawled into bed first, curling around himself as if he wanted to hide from the world under the covers. Steve couldn't help thinking that Christian wanted to hide from him too as he curled around the other man. And when Christian had a nightmare, Steve also felt trapped, wondering how many nights it would be before he would finally say something. But he didn’t say anything again that night, talking himself out of it because Christian was still too raw, still adjusting. Steve was just so afraid of scaring Christian away.

In the morning he woke to a very pleasant surprise, his cock down Christian’s throat.

“Oh Fuck,” were Steve’s first words as he lifted his head to see Christian’s dark head bobbing in his lap, one hand holding his erection at the base, the other trailing up to Steve’s belly.

Steve dropped his head back to the pillow, his every muscle tensing in pleasure and then relaxing back into the mattress, his left hand going without thought to Christian’s head, not directing just wanting to feel the motion, his other hand gripped the sheets as he tried to gentle his instinctive thrusting. His orgasm came quickly, crashing down on him like an unexpected wave, dragging him down and stealing his breath.

Still staring perplexed at the ceiling, Steve felt Christian’s mouth leave his spent flesh and then after a few final strokes Christian’s hand was removed. Just as Steve was about to lift his head to return the favor, Christian came back into view. Christian was kneeling on the bed between Steve’s legs as he stroked his own length like a jack hammer.

They weren’t even touching now, but for some reason, Steve found the whole thing unbearably erotic. He stared at the bunch of Christian's bicep as he worked himself, his abs clenching rhythmically. Christian was lost in his own pleasure, his mouth open as he panted for breath, his eyes heavy-lidded and mostly closed, that adorable wrinkle in his forehead that made him seem as if he were almost in pain.

And then Christian stiffened with a bitten off groan seconds before hot cum splashed on Steve’s belly and his own deflating cock. Christian stroked himself a few more times before his head fell to his chest, his hair falling forward in a curtain.

Steve sat up then unable to watch the show any longer without touching. Both his hands plunged into Christian’s hair, moving it back from the man’s face as Steve maneuvered the man’s panting mouth up for a sloppy kiss, loving how Christian was pliant in his hands and under his lips.

But it was only for a moment, not nearly long enough in Steve’s mind, and then Christian roused himself and pulled back. “Let me have the bathroom for just a second and then I’ll make breakfast while you shower.”

Christian leaned back in for a kiss, but it seemed more perfunctory than anything else, almost as if he wanted to get away, wanted to get on with the routine of the day as he quickly rolled off the bed, grabbing a pair of shorts as he left the bedroom without a backward glance. Steve sat there amidst rumpled sheets, the glow of his orgasm dampened considerably with his thoughts.

Dragging himself out of bed, he took a quick shower, his morning erection already dealt with, and dressed pretty much in what he always wore. He spent a little time choosing his jewelry, though. Most of his bracelets and watches had thick bands but he made sure to pick a thick one this time to hide the bruising. When he made his way to the kitchen he found that Christian had dressed to go to the gym while he had been in the shower. And there was that cute ponytail up on his head again. But Steve didn’t feel like swatting it today. He felt like he and Christian were wandering apart even though they were together almost all the time.

There wasn’t much time for talking during breakfast if Steve wanted to be on time and even if there had been Steve wasn’t sure what he would say. As much as he felt like Christian was acting a part, trying to be perfect and helpful so was Steve, trying to be what Christian needed without pushing or demanding too much.

Christian grabbed the keys and followed Steve's directions to his manager’s office. Steve remembered to give Christian the cell phone before he pressed a kiss to the other man’s cheek, a kiss that made neither man smile. “I’ll call you later,” were his last words as he exited the car, such normal everyday words like Steve didn't feel like he was spinning in some sort of surrealistic painting, where everything seemed normal but wasn't.

Steve could barely concentrate at the meeting, instead spending most of the time worrying about Christian. He wondered how Christian was doing on his own, what Christian was doing, if he talked to anyone at the gym. Steve wondered what the other man was thinking, how Christian felt about being alone in Steve's house. Everything seemed so off but all he could think to do was to give it time.

When the meeting from hell was finally over, he called Christian from his manager’s receptionist. It was a little after noon but that would just mean less crowds at restaurants. Then Steve just waited outside for his little car to pull up.

Christian, when he appeared, was freshly showered, dressed nicely in what appeared to be his own jeans and a button-up. He had rolled up the sleeves again, Steve noticed. The jewelry was also back in place, the necklace laying amidst his open collar, the bracelet covering the bruises on his right wrist, but the left wrist was exposed. Apparently Christian wasn't as comfortable rooting through Steve's jewelry as he was Steve's clothes. He also didn't seem to be bothered by the bruises. Of course, there was no way to hide the bruises on either of their faces, but those could be explained as a fight. The bruises on their wrists painted an entirely different picture.

Feeling like he was expressing false cheerfulness, Steve asked, “So where do you want to go for lunch?”

Christian looked over at him quizzically before he spoke. “I don’t know. You live here, where’s good?”

“No preference? Nothing sounds good?" Steve pressed, wanting to get Christian's input.

Still looking at him with a quizzical expression now tinged with Christian's own fake cheer, Christian replied mildly, "Wherever you want."

In that moment Steve was dangerously close to just having a break-down and screaming at Christian or something equally ridiculous and over-dramatic. One minute everything had to be Christian's way and the next, Christian seemed to be bending over backward to give Steve what he thought Steve wanted. Which was annoying because Steve was attempting to bend over backward giving Christian more control. With a deep sigh, he tried again, “There’s a cute latin place nearby.”

Christian just nodded, that smooth, slow movement like it had been rehearsed, like he was prepared to agree with whatever Steve wanted. “Great, tell me how to get there.”

By the time they were seated, Steve felt like he needed a drink, or a dozen. And since he couldn’t think of a single reason why he couldn’t have one, he ordered a blueberry mojito. Christian ordered a beer.

“So how was the meeting?” Christian began.

“Boring. Nah, he booked me a gig in LA this weekend.”

“Really? You play places between tours?”

“Yeah, anything to get the word out, small gigs or conventions.”

Christian nodded in response and then the waiter was setting down their drinks and taking their orders. And then there was silence, long and awkward like they hadn’t spent the last however long in each other’s pockets. Gone was Christian’s playful energy as if it were being stifled by his melancholy, as if he were keeping it tightly leashed. He wasn’t going to ask too many questions about Steve’s life anymore since he didn’t want to volunteer any information about himself. So Steve figured that conversation was up to him.

“So have you ever been on an African safari?”

The barest of smiles appeared on Christian’s face but it disappeared just as quickly, Christian shaking his hair out of his face. “Not exactly a safari.”

Steve waited but there was no more. So once again, Steve asked, resigning himself to pulling information out of the other man. “But you have been to Africa?”

Christian’s face hardened, which Steve didn’t understand. It was obviously one of the many things that Christian didn’t want to talk about but, like the scars, it wasn’t as if Steve didn’t already know.

“I was sent to…retrieve something that had been stolen.”

Ok, that was probably a signal to back off, but Steve was determined to focus on the positive. Christian had gotten to go to Africa, after all, even if it was for a job, a completely illegal, probably painful, and definitely dangerous job. “Where did you go? Is it as beautiful as it seems or is it ruined by all the poverty there?”

Christian warmed a little. “I started in Sudan, but also saw Uganda and Kenya, and South Africa when I was trying to get out. It is beautiful despite its problems, just so completely different from here that it’s hard to describe.”

“Have you scuba dived the Great Barrier Reef?”

That got a small chuckle out of Christian. “No, I’ve never been to Australia.”

“Oh, you’re not fantastic at surfing, are you?” Steve tried for mock concern.

“I’ve never tried it, but you never know,” and there was that sly smirk on Christian’s face that Steve didn’t even know how much he missed.

“So what was your craziest vacation?”

And just like that the smirk was gone. “Vacation? Umm, I don’t know…”

Steve knew that he was stalling and so for the first time he probed at it. They were only talking about vacations for God's sake. “How about a vacation when your sister was being extra annoying?”

Christian attempted a smile, but it didn’t really work on his face, not getting near his eyes. The man really couldn't fake a smile. “We didn’t really have money for vacations when I was kid, and I didn’t go on any as an adult.”

So that was that, Christian seemed to consider the matter closed. Steve wanted to just let loose with the questions, but surely Christian’s comfort was worth more than his curiosity. So instead, he leaned back in his chair, dragged his hands through his hair and turned the conversation to inane, polite small talk.

“How was the gym?”

Lunch was yet another activity that seemed to take a small eternity. Afterwards, they went straight back to the house. Christian handed   
over the keys for Steve to drive though Steve didn’t ask for them and would have been perfectly happy letting Christian drive. But Christian still seemed to hold onto the idea that he was intruding on Steve’s life instead of sharing it.

Upon entering the front door, Steve heard the phone ringing, but it stopped before he could get there. Even as he looked to see who had called, his cell phone rang.

“Hello,” he answered, giving Christian a thumb’s up when the man motioned to the ‘music’ room, presumably asking permission to go in there.

“Hey, where you been?” Jensen began without preamble.

“Oh, I had a meeting with the manager. I have a gig lined up this weekend.”

“Great, we’ll be sure to be there. So have you and Christian made the beast with two backs yet?”

Against his will, a smile broke out over Steve's face. “You’re the only person I know that uses classic literature to be crass.”

“Shakespeare said everything best, even euphemisms for sex. But if you want me to be straightforward, have you two had sex yet?   
Dissolved some of the tension?”

“Christ, Jensen.” Out of the corner of his eye, Steve could see Christian sit down with the guitar, the material of his shirt, stretched taut between his shoulder blades as he leaned over the instrument. “Yes, ok.”

“Good so you can bring him to the bar again tonight.”

“Look I don’t know if he…”

“Regular place, regular time, see you then.”

Steve stared down at the phone, the words ‘call ended’ staring back at him. With a huff, Steve threw himself down on the couch.

“What’s up?” Christian queried.

“The guys want to go to the bar again tonight.” He didn’t mention that they actually spent half the nights at that same bar, but he just wasn’t sure that it was a great time for Christian to be going out when he seemed uncomfortable just in the house with Steve.

But Christian just said, “Ok” with a shrug and turned back to the guitar. Steve felt like he was beginning to understand better why Christian had been so upset when he accused Steve of ‘pretending’ that nothing had changed. Now he felt like that’s what Christian was doing.

**************************************

Jesus Christ on the motherfucking cross, Steve thought. He wasn't normally quite so blasphemous but soon he was going to tear his hair out. There Christian was, sitting on the couch, plucking at one of Steve's extra guitars, cool as a cucumber or more accurately perhaps, as a statue. Christian wouldn't admit that a damn thing was wrong, he wouldn't even admit that he fucking loved that guitar, turning to it like trusted friend, like Steve himself did.

Steve went to the music room to get out his own guitar, hiding himself from Christian as he reined in his emotions, not wanting to dump his frustrations about Christian on Christian. Christian was the only person he had ever known that made him feel like this, that made him feel so much, highs and lows. He was the laid back guy who just went with the flow. He didn't get jealous and he didn't push, but he just didn't know what to do, what Christian needed him to do.

Taking a deep breath, Steve reminded himself that this was just as hard for Christian. Steve had known that this would be difficult, that Christian would have ups and downs, but unfortunately, Steve himself was just becoming more and more frustrated. Of course, Christian wouldn't jump up and down about being invited to join a band. Christian, despite the mask he was wearing, had to be frightened, frightened that he wouldn't be able to make it as a 'civilian'. He probably needed time before he would commit to anything like that. And then there was the fact that Christian was reticent to accept that Steve wanted to share his home with the other man. Christian was surely more hesitant to believe that Steve wanted to share his career.

Returning to the living room, he settled himself on the couch, guitar on his lap, needing his own release from his cyclical thoughts. And the worst part was that sitting there, just jamming on the guitars felt so right, even when their chords were discordant. It wasn't all bad. There were moments when Christian's mask slipped and hopefully, Christian would eventually be comfortable enough to take the mask off.

Christian was the one who eventually stood, insisting on making dinner himself and it was Steve who watched Christian from the table, feeling pretty useless. One would think that Steve would eventually get used to the feeling but he hadn't. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy watching Christian cook or enjoy what Christian made. Steve could barely put a finger on it at all and wondered if Christian had felt this way all those times that Steve had made food for them before. But it was as if Christian were too insistent about it, too helpful. Steve wasn't even sure if that made sense in his own head.

“I’ll drive tonight.” Christian’s voice came out of the blue, startling Steve out of his inner musings. “I mean, if you want to drink.”

Steve was certain a confused expression was on his face as he tried to figure out where this had come from. “Uhh, ok, I mean I wasn’t planning on drinking a lot. We could always take a cab.”

Christian shrugged, his attention on the meal that he was using as a shield. “Nah, I don’t like to drink a lot. I’ll just have a few beers.”

Steve thought that comment over, unwilling to ask about it. Clearly, persons who were being hunted by people like Caleb wouldn’t want to be caught unawares. Though, Steve also came up with the notion that persons who had experienced all that Christian had experienced might also be scared to lose themselves in the bottle, to find their own way to forget.

Dinner eaten and they were already dressed and mostly clean, they just sat in front of the tv for a while. Looking over at Christian, splayed legs clad in dark denim that clung to powerful thighs, button-up unbuttoned enough to show a tantalizing amount of built chest on which lay a turquoise necklace, sleeves rolled up to show off muscular forearms, Steve personally thought it would have been time better spent with their tongues intertwined, but at this point there was no way that Steve was going to make that first move. It wasn’t that they hadn’t had sex since Christian had regained his memories, which Steve had been prepared for. Steve had been prepared for Christian to need time before he was comfortable being intimate with Steve again. Steve had made his intentions clear and Christian had seemed to agree, and Steve had let Christian initiate. Steve tried to be just affectionate, but felt like his advances wouldn’t be welcome.

In fact, now that he thought about it, Christian had been in complete control of both sexual experiences since his memory was restored. Christian had almost been too controlled, not allowing Steve's hands to wander, not allowing that affection. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Christian raise his left hand to push silky waves away from his face.

"Oh," Steve said, popping off the couch. "I almost forgot," he continued as he hurried up the stairs. He grabbed the watch that he had put on Christian's wrist that first night, brown leather with a large silver face. He both wanted Christian to have it, to have a watch and something to wear on his other wrist, and also wanted to hide the bruises that lay underneath.

Steve clambered back down the stairs, feeling unsettled that he was trying to 'hide' any part of Christian even as he wanted to encourage Christian to be himself. On Christian's skin the bruises represented more than what they did on Steve's own pale skin. On Steve, they told of a singular experience of terror, during which he had clung to Christian, to Christian's certainty and bravery and skill, Steve's hero. But's Christian's bruises, like the scars, told a long story about Christian's life, his past and current struggles. But as Steve stood in front of the man, he said nothing of this inner confusion.

"Here's the watch you wore last time. I meant to give it back to you before," he simply said, holding it out.

Christian's face flickered between surprise, confusion, and what looked like coy happiness as he reached out to take the watch. Christian seemed grateful of the present again, apparently not imagining Steve's secondary motive of hiding the bruises. It made Steve feel a little ashamed that there was any other motive.

"I guess we're ready to go then," Steve covered. He helped Christian put on the watch and then led the way to the door.

This time Christian entered the bar first, which was quickly becoming habitual. Christian would enter and scan the interior like he was expecting something inside besides a normal gym or restaurant or tame weeknight bar scene. Then Steve would enter and they would head over. And, on the one hand, it made Steve feel pity for Christian that he would be so on guard, so suspicious, but Steve had to admit that it also made him feel safe, secure, cared for. Particularly after recent events, Christian's wariness made Steve feel better.

Jensen was there with Jared and so was David who stood with a wide smile to give Christian one of those half-hug back-slapping numbers that Steve wasn’t incredibly fond of. “Hey, Chris, still in town?”

Trying to appear casual, Steve tuned out whatever Jensen was saying, instead listening intently to see how Christian would answer. “Yeah, looks like I’ll be here for a while.”

“You found some kind of job around here, then? What did you say you did?”

Steve wondered whether Christian had said anything about what he did last time. “Oh, well actually…” Christian looked over at Steve in the pause, uncertainty and hopefulness on his face. “Steve thought that we could start a band.”

For what felt like the first time since they had last been at this bar, Steve smiled big and full. He didn’t care what anyone thought as he grabbed Christian’s shoulders and then pulled the other man into a desperate hug.

“You mean it? You want to?” Steve had to know, had to have it written in stone that that was what Christian wanted.

Christian buried his face in Steve’s neck for just a moment before answering, his breath tickling Steve’s ear. “If you want to, I’d love to try.”

Then with a slap on the back, Christian released him and stepped back. Steve saw that Christian was smiling genuinely before they were each attacked by different friends. David’s hand was squeezing the back of Christian’s neck as Steve was hugged and congratulated simultaneously by Jensen and Jared.

Jensen’s smile was far too smug, but Steve was too happy to worry about it just then.

“Whoa, what’s all this, boys?” Mike’s voice interrupted their little celebration.

And then there were drinks all around. Christian stayed true to his one or two beers, but Steve couldn’t say no when the guys kept buying him drinks, and not just beers but shots. And why not? He didn’t have a thing to do tomorrow.

The only low point was when Jensen asked how he got the bruise on his cheek, commenting that Christian’s face was bruised too. It was weird, to even think about that night that seemed like a dream now in his regular bar with his regular friends. It was weird to think that he used to be a regular guy, untouched by such violence. Steve found himself turning away from Jensen, from wide, innocent green eyes that only wanted to help. Steve found himself looking over at Christian who was telling some story, probably complete bullshit to Mike and Chad, David seated on Christian's other side smirking. Steve looked at the bruises on Christian's face. Christian was both the cause of Steve's problems and the answer to Steve's every question, a man who frightened thugs armed with guns and yet who didn't frighten Steve.

Steve glanced back at Jensen sitting beside him. Jensen was Steve's best friend and it hurt in an indefinable way not to be able to tell Jensen the truth. It wasn't Steve's secret to tell, but it was. It certainly affected Steve's life that night and after. Raising his beer to his lips, Steve took a large swallow, and then lied, telling Jensen in a hoarse voice that he had let Christian pick the bar and they had accidentally insulted someone big.

Still the night was pretty great. He registered Christian’s indulgent smile as the night got later, standing at the dart boards with David. The two men really seemed to be hitting it off, and Steve was proud to think that without the slightest bit of jealousy. Christian needed to have friends.

Course, these friends didn’t actually know anything about Christian. They only knew the Christian that was on the man’s new California driver’s license, his fake birth certificate and social security card, and made-up medical history.

 

Fuck, what Christian needed were people who understood what he was going through and all he had were friends who didn’t have a clue and Steve who had no idea what he was doing. Hell, Steve needed someone, someone to talk to, someone who knew what was going on. Steve could feel his frustrations building up, but the worst thing that he could do was to take out that frustration on Christian.

Steve was definitely feeling warm and fuzzy by the time that Christian and David came around again, though thankfully not drunk enough to start spouting things that didn’t need to be said. He just blinked up at Christian, delighted to see the man that he now shared his home, his music, and his heart with.

“I think your boy’s drunk, Chris.”

And that was another thing, why did David call him Chris? David wasn’t supposed to have nicknames for his lover.

“Hey…” was all the protest he got out before Christian was sliding his hands underneath Steve’s armpits and hauling him up to standing. Christian kept an arm around Steve’s waist but his attention was back on David.

“I’ll just pour the rest of them into cabs,” David said. Christian chuckled, that deep raspy sound that went straight through Steve, even as Christian was waving goodbye and hauling Steve's slightly uncoordinated body away.

“Guess it was a good thing you offered to drive, huh?” Steve said as they toddled their way out to the car. “But they think that we’re going to be great, Christian. They think that you’re great.”

Christian’s smile was indulgent instead of proud at the compliment, but Steve decided he would take what he could get. He slid into the car when Christian opened the passenger door for him, having enough presence of mind to put his seatbelt on.

Steve spent the drive back playing with the car radio, but when the car was in park, he managed to get out by himself. He didn’t complain, however, when Christian put his arm back around to help.

Christian propelled them through the front door and then once it was locked, up the stairs. He released Steve when they entered the bedroom, not disguising his smile as Steve stumbled, white teeth reflecting in the moonlight. Steve was perfectly able to undress himself and proved it by unbuttoning the light shirt that he was wearing. Steve smiled himself when he looked up to find Christian watching. Course, as Steve shrugged the shirt off broad shoulders, the cuffs got caught in his bracelets. Christian just laughed, abruptly averting his face as Steve flexed his chest trying to free himself and then Christian left the room, as Steve struggled to removed the bracelets and then the shirt. Steve threw the bracelets and watch at the dresser and then unbuttoned his pants. Denim and cotton boxers were sliding down his legs when Christian returned with two cups of water and some Tylenol.

“Here take this now and maybe you won’t feel shitty later.”

Steve stepped out of the clothes, leaving them on the floor and took the pills from Christian's hands. He swallowed the pills and the glass of water and then sat on the bed naked as Christian undressed. He almost flinched as Christian put the watch on the dresser, but Steve was spreading his bare legs wider, leaning back on hands placed on the mattress as Christian began taking off his shirts. Christian's eyes kept flicking towards Steve on the bed and before too long though, Steve decided he was tired of watching. Christian was just slipping his other foot out of the jeans when Steve stood again.

He had had plans when he had stood up but what Steve wanted was just to wrap his arms around Christian, feeling the other man’s skin all along his own. Except for the boxers Chrsitian was still wearing, those would have to go. Steve turned his head into Christian’s neck, breathing in the other man’s scent as his hands slid inside the waistband of the last remaining article of clothing, shoving the boxers down.

He barely registered the tension in Christian’s body as he pressed their now naked groins back together, mouthing along Christian’s neck, his hands rubbing up and down the man’s back, lower until they smoothed over the globes of Christian’s ass. Steve could feel the other’s man’s erection sliding against his own as he unconsciously humped Christian so he didn’t understand when he was gently pushed away.

Christian’s expression as unreadable now that Steve could see it. “Come on, I think you should go to bed.”

Steve stared back at the man with incredulity. “I’m not that drunk.”

But Christian didn’t budge, his hands firm on Steve's biceps. “I know, I still think you’ll feel better if you get some sleep.”

Steve was mystified. Was Christian really trying to protect Steve’s non-existent virtue? He may have had a few drinks, but that didn’t make sense to him. But Steve obviously wasn’t going to push Christian about sex. He couldn’t stop the huffing noise he made though.

“I’ll go brush my teeth then.”

Steve went to the bathroom and returned, his cock still hard with frustrated need as he crawled into bed, letting Christian have his turn. Steve stayed awake just long enough to curl around Christian when the man laid down beside him.

Like all the nights before, Steve awoke to darkness and the agonizing sounds of Christian in the midst of a nightmare. Pressed up against Christian’s back, Steve rubbed Christian’s chest and belly and arms as he whispered softly into the man’s ear. He rubbed as the sounds increased in desperation before Christian quieted.

Steve knew that Christian was awake then, given away by the slight but purposeful shifting of position and increase in the rate of his breathing. And tonight, after the earlier rejection, Steve had to ask. He had run out of patience, and patience didn’t seem to be getting them very far anyway. What if he were going about this entirely wrong? He wouldn't know until he actually tried pushing.

“What do you dream about?”

Christian stiffened in his arms, holding himself completely still for an interminable amount of time before he was moving away, breaking the hold that Steve had on him.

“Rainbows and sunshine, what do you think?” Christian's voice was harsh and defensive and it only made Steve more determined to pursue this.

“I think maybe you’re the person who needs to stop pretending that nothing’s wrong, that nothing happened to you. Maybe you need to talk about it.”

“You don’t want to hear that shit, Steve.”

“I don’t want to hear it, but maybe you need to tell it and I’m the only person around.”

“No,” Christian sat up and abruptly fled the room, the door closing quietly behind him.

Leaving Steve naked on the bed. It was becoming a bad habit. Steve shoved off the sheets and grabbed a pair of boxers, yanking them on before following his wayward lover downstairs. He found Christian sitting on the couch naked as a jaybird, his head in his hands.

“Christian,” Steve announced himself before placing his hand in between Christian's sharp shoulder blades.

But Christian wouldn’t allow even that simple contact, getting up off the couch to pace in Steve’s living room. Steve wasn’t going to be shaken off though and he walked up behind Christian, grabbing the other man around the waist.

Christian stilled, that deadly calm before the storm, tensing as if to defend himself. Steve didn’t have the presence of mind, the familiarity with danger to let go though. He knew in that moment that it wasn’t his smartest move coming up behind Christian like that, but, in the end, he trusted that Christian could control himself.

And that trust was warranted. Christian tensed and then collapsed in on himself, letting Steve keep his hold for a second before he was shrugging Steve off again, seemingly more out of stubbornness than anything else.

“Christian,” Steve tried another tactic. “You have to talk to me because I am not letting this go.”

Christian returned then to his initial position on the couch. This time, though, Steve slid himself behind Christian, his legs to either side and when he wrapped his arms around the other man he was able to pull Christian back against his chest.

“Not you. I don’t want you to know any of this.”

“Christian, I have to know. I want to know everything about you. I want to know why you act the way you do, the way you did when you had amnesia. I want to understand. I think an actual therapist would be a help as well…”

As expected Christian objected. “I’m not talking to a shrink. We had those in the Army, but they didn’t do anything, just lackeys paid to sign off on sending us back. Besides this Christian Kane has never been in the armed services.”

Steve swallowed the sigh he wanted to make. He was certain that shrinks didn’t regularly conduct background checks. Or Christian could always have another ID made since getting this one seemed so easy. “What did you dream about tonight?”

Christian stayed silent and stiff in his arms. “Ok, why didn’t you want me to touch you earlier tonight?”

Christian sputtered as he attempted to lie. “I didn’t…that’s not what I was doing, I was…”

Tightening his arms around Christian, Steve gave voice to his fear. “Christian, has anyone ever…were you ever forced to have sex?”

“That’s not…I don’t think that you’re going to force me. And I would never hurt you.”

Steve was going to consider that answer a yes. “Do you think of those times that you were forced when I touch you?”

Steve held his breath waiting for the answer as Christian released his own huff and squirmed slightly in his grasp. “If I flashed back every time someone touched me, I wouldn’t have survived very long. I got over that, I just…It’s you. I don't deserve you. How can you stand to   
touch me?”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Haven’t you been listening? It was my fault! They sent me to assassinate people, to kill witnesses no matter who they were. And I followed orders. What kind of excuse is that?! They raped us because we were less than human. It was just another way to humiliate us.”

The anguish in Christian's voice was like a knife in Steve's own heart. Steve just held Christian as he panted and trembled, waited until Christian had calmed down some. “When you started, did you believe that it was for a good cause?”

Christian sniffled, obviously trying to hide the noise from Steve. Apparently it was a better idea than he realized to have them back to front so that Christian could have some illusion of hiding.

“Yeah, they told us that we had to get information that would save American lives, that some people had to die so that we could keep thousands more safe and free. Sometimes that was even true, but did it really warrant the death of innocent women and children? Most of the intel was so vague anyway…”

“You did the best you could.”

Christian snorted. “Good intentions pave the way to hell.”

“But it’s not too late to divert course. What did you steal after you got out?”

“Uhh,” Christian seemed confused at the change in direction. “Lots of stuff.”

“Like detonators?”

“Yeah, obviously.”

“And why did you choose to take the job to steal that detonator?”

“It was a fucking warhead in the hands of a bunch of scum. It was a no-brainer to take the job.”

“You do things like that often? Stop the bad guy, save the day.”

“Don’t. Don’t romanticize what I did.”

“I’m not. I’m just looking at it differently. But in the end, Christian, you can either wallow in guilt for what you’ve done or you can change your ways, give it another shot.”

There was silence again. But this silence was filled with the sound of Christian breathing, the warmth of Christian’s weight becoming pliant against him. It was better than some silences.

Finally Christian spoke again, “I know,” a simple breath of air, almost too soft to be heard.

“And maybe we could try something else during sex, to help you stay in the moment and maybe give up a little control.” And to accept affection, Steve added in his head.

“Yeah, like what?” Christian’s voice was still soft and tired from his outburst.

“We could try a blindfold so that you had to focus on the present, on me and what I was doing. And, if you were willing, we could try restraining your arms so that you had to give up some control, had to just focus on pleasurable sensations…”

Steve had never actually tried anything like bondage or dominance in the bedroom, outside of his own mind, usually entertaining himself with new positions or partners instead. But this wouldn’t be about games, it would hopefully be about giving something to Christian, taking care of the other man some more. Not that it would be anything like a hardship for Steve to have Christian’s gorgeous body laid out for him.

Christian turned his face to the side, apparently not wanting to hide anymore though Christian still couldn’t see Steve’s face behind him.   
“Yeah,” he said breathlessly. “What do you get out of it?”

Steve felt how pliant Christian was in his arms, heard the need in the other man’s voice. Christian had cracked open like an egg, his fears spilling out like so much foulness. It must have been cathartic and now, now that Steve hadn't pushed him away, Christian had given himself up entirely to Steve's care. “I get you," Steve whispered.

Christian moved then, straining seemingly to get at Steve’s lips so Steve obliged, bringing his face closer so that Christian could kiss him except it was more like just nuzzling. Christian’s breath fanned out on his lips as Christian spoke, “Can we…now, I want you…”

Steve leaned in for a deeper kiss, moaning softly at how Christian opened beneath the pressure. “Yeah, yeah we can. Stand up.”

They walked back up the stairs in a strange mirror image of how they had earlier that evening. Now they were naked or Steve almost was, and it was Steve’s arm around Christian’s waist. He sat Christian down on the bed, the man’s expression open and trusting as it had ever been when he had amnesia, like a little boy. Christian trusted him, trusted him not only with his body, but what was more important, Christian trusted him with his past, with his vulnerability.

“Let me get a few things,” Steve’s voice was low, but not light, not a whisper. Steve moved away to his closet, searching for a couple of neckties and a scarf. Steve knew without asking that Christian's trust was not given easily. There wasn't any room for sympathy or love in what Christian had done before and Steve sent up a silent thanks for the amnesia that had brought them here.

But it wasn't just that Christian was willingly letting Steve restrain him. It wouldn't be the cloth that bound Christian, it would be Christian's own will, the same thing that kept Christian with Steve at all, that kept Christian trying to change. Steve was entrusted with being Christian's support, his comfort and though that responsibility was heavy, Steve felt honoured. He was the only one who got to see Christian like this, who got to know Christian like this.

Steve stripped off his boxers, wanting nothing between them as he turned back to the bed, back to Christian who was just waiting for whatever comfort Steve would give, trusting Steve, wanting Steve. He kneeled between Christian's legs, looking up into dark blue eyes. "I'm sure you know what a safeword is, a word that you wouldn't normally say during sex but if you say it tonight, I'll stop immediately. What's your word?"

"Guitar."

Steve had to smile at that. "Ok, so say that word if you want me to stop. But if you forget your word, I'm also going to stop if you say 'stop', ok?"

Christian nodded, but Steve felt the need to make certain of Christian's answers, to make sure that they were on the same page. "Answer, because I need both of us to be sure."

"If I want you to stop, I'll say 'guitar' or 'stop'."

Steve smiled again. "Good. I'm going to bind your hands together with this necktie." He didn't ask a question and Christian didn't answer, the silence in itself an agreement. Steve was only a little worried about the cloth chafing Christian's wrists. Right now Christian was pliant and comfortable and this was about keeping him that way, so hopefully Christian wouldn't be struggling. He was more worried about Christian's reaction to the blindfold.

Steve didn't want to remove Christian's bracelet at this point, the jewelry was too significant to take off during this. He managed to push it up enough to bind Christian's wrists together. Then he attached the end of a second tie to the bindings. "Once you lay down, I'm going to attach this tie to the headboard. First, I'm going to blindfold you with this scarf."

Again it wasn't a question, but Steve was prepared for Christian to speak, to say 'stop'. It didn't happen and Steve tied the blindfold around his eyes. Steve did hear the rate of Christian's breathing increase, but that was to be expected and didn't necessarily mean that Christian was becoming significantly uncomfortable.

"I'm going to keep my hands on you while you're blindfolded so you'll know where I am at all times." Steve's hands were on Christian's shoulders. "Scoot back, a little more, there. Now lie back." Steve made sure to cradle Christian's head with one hand and pushed the tie of the blindfold so that Christian wasn't lying on it. Then his hands moved to Christian's bound wrists, lifting them overhead and tying the second necktie to the metal bars of his bedframe.

He trailed his hands back down tanned, muscular arms. Steve wanted to keep talking as well to keep Christian in the moment and so that Christian would know whom he was with. "I had no idea how sensitive my biceps were." Christian's face was turned towards his voice, even though he couldn't see. But Steve could clearly see that Christian's lips were a little thin, tight with some anxiety. He laid down, his own naked skin pressed up all along Christian's side as reassurance.

First Steve ran his thumb with gentle, massaging pressure over the sensitive muscle of Christian's inner arms, then his mouth descended, laving the indentation of Christian's nearest bicep with his tongue before sucking the thin skin away from the muscle. His breath fanned over the now wet red mark as he spoke again, "I think it'll bruise, like mine." Steve moved further away again, replacing his mouth with his hands, rubbing his thumb in tight circles over the area. "Then I can press my fingers into it tomorrow and you'll remember   
this."

Watching Christian's face, Steve noted that full lips were now open and wet, Christian's breathing heavy with arousal instead of short with fear. So far so good. Steve ran a soothing hand down Christian's chest to his belly, stopping short of wiry curls and Christian's erection. "Spread your legs, " he said, waiting for Christian to comply which he did readily, before Steve spoke again. "I'm going to lay on top of you," he said, giving warning. Now Christian was also restrained with Steve's own weight. Not that Christian couldn't get out from under Steve as well as out of the ties if he really tried, but, for a moment Steve just watched Christian carefully to make sure that the mere idea of being further restrained didn't bother him.

Even though now their erections were pressed snug, side by side between their smooth bellies, Steve kept still. This was about more than sex and, really, as earlier that evening he just enjoyed the feel of Christian's skin against his own. It was comforting as well as arousing. He held someof his weight up with his forearms as he said, "I'm going to kiss you." Christian's face had followed Steve's movement and now Steve watched as Christian licked his lips in eagerness, lifting his chin a little to get closer. The kiss was slow, thorough, Christian opening his mouth readily to invite Steve in, pliant but not passive as Steve's tongue stroked over Christian's teeth and palate and tongue. Steve pulled back a little, nibbling over the fullness of Christian's bottom lip and then lower, Christian's jaw and then neck. And still, despite the bonds, Christian arched his neck, allowing, begging Steve to lick and nibble it.

From there, Steve's eyes were drawn to Christian's dusky nipples, already pebbling on defined pecs. "Your nipples are really sensitive," he said, his left thumb already circling the outside of one. Christian twitched unexpected at the stimulation but he wasn't struggling. "But I guess you knew that." His thumb now swiped over the nub and Christian arched into the sensation that was over as soon as it began. Steve went back to circling the outside, not the least bit surprised when Christian whined.

"I'll take care of you." The thumb swiped over again and then fingers were plucking lightly, his lover's chest rising and falling visibly. He didn't want to tease, but he did want to build sensation. With his left hand rolling the nub between his thumb and forefinger, Steve bent over Christian again. The flat of his tongue swiped over the nipple once. Christian was straining upwards again, his chest arching against Steve's face, wordlessly begging for more, the only sound Christian's panting. Steve scraped his teeth across it before he drew the nipple into his mouth, suckling lightly first.

Now the air was filled with the sounds of moaning, the scent of sweat and arousal thick as Christian began to writhe, his body moving underneath Steve but not trying to get away, trying to get more. Steve responded, his teeth closing over the nub, nipping and worrying it. Christian bucked, his head turning from one side to the other frantically before he settled again with a high-pitched keening whine. Steve drew back, his fingers going back to torment the wet, red, presumably sensitive nipple as he watched Christian for a moment.

Seeing that Christian was still with him, still straining toward the stimulation instead of away, Steve bent to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment. His tongue flicked against the nub for a moment as Steve caught sight of the short, thick line of a scar in the skin above the nipple. Steve lifted his face, wanting to watch Christian's face as he ran his thumb lightly over the scar. At first Christian seemed fine, settling back down after the stimulation to his nipples, his body stilling though he was still panting for breath. The scar was faded so Christian probably didn't even realize what Steve was doing until his fingers moved to another scar closer to Christian's shoulder, a bullet wound that his thumb circled. Then Christian's expression changed to uncertain, turning his face toward the sensation as if trying to figure out what Steve was up to.

Steve didn't want to dwell there, didn't want to push too much this time, just wanted to let Christian know that he didn't have to hide. Steve knew, he could see the scars and he wasn't leaving. So Steve let his thumb flick again over Christian's nipples, earning him a surprised gasp before Steve was tracing another scar. Then Steve used his palm to massage the firm muscle there, moving downwards as his whole body did. Steve felt Christian's cock drag along the skin of his belly and up between his own pecs. Steve's own cock was now pressed against cool sheets and he could feel beads of sweat sliding down his exposed back.

Steve got his knees underneath himself as he lifted slightly off of Christian, his face now even with Christian's dick. Shifting onto one hand on the outside of Christian's hip, Steve slid his palm along the silky length before his fingers closed around it, jacking it once, twice, and then his tongue was flicking out to taste the pearlescent drop at the tip. Christian's strained then, the muscles in his arms coming into sharp relief as he pulled at the bonds. Though it was probably just need, Steve spoke to reassure his lover. "Lift your knees."

Steve's hands were already underneath Christian's legs, pulling them up and then further. Christian settled down again at Steve's voice, going pliant with trust, almost limp as his legs were pressed to his chest as Steve had done that first time. Christian let out a long, airy whine at the touch of Steve's dry fingers to his hole.

"I want you. I want my dick inside you, your legs wrapped around me, pulling me in deeper, wanting me."

Christian made a sound like he agreed with the plan, somewhere between a high pitched whine and a deep throated growl, his thighs falling further apart. Steve laid a light hand on Christian's chest as he reached into the nightstand. The preparation was quick, Steve swiveling one finger to distribute the lube then pressing in two to scissor and stretch. Christian didn't make another sound until he was pressing his latex-covered cock past the ring of muscle. Christian groaned at the slow intrusion, but didn't tense up, didn't tug at his bonds. Powerful thighs that had been lifted did wrap securely around Steve's waist, but they didn't pull Steve in, content to let Steve control this, content to accept Steve's affection.

Continuing his long slow glide, Steve dropped his chest back on top of Christian. His hips the only thing really moving, just rocking into Christian, rolling his pelvis up on the short glide out to press on Christian's prostate. It was intimate and drawn-out. Both men gasping and groaning, hot breath hitting sweat-slicked faces. Steve's hair fell around them both, Christian the only thing that he could see while Christian saw nothing, just felt. Steve couldn't help dropping kisses on Christian's face like his sweat dropped on the other man.

Steve wasn't usually one to talk a lot during sex, but God knew that Christian made him do crazy things and words began to drip out of his lips too. "It's me. I want you, Christian. I want all of you. I want to know all of you." Steve's thrust became harder and he slid his hands up to grip Christian's biceps, of Christian's still bound hands. "Want you, want you...God, Christian. So amazing, perfect...perfect fit..."

It was Christian who came first, becoming stiff underneath Steve's weight and jerking spasmodically. Steve concentrated on every second of it, the feel of Christian's cock trapped between them as it flooded the space with cum, the look on Christian's face as his mouth fell open on an animalistic cry, head arched back. But Christian hadn't even finished before Steve's own movements lost their rhythm, hips jerking into Christian's ass, some loud, inarticulate noise forced out of his throat.

His hips were still rocking as they both came down from their orgasms, Steve's body on auto-pilot as it tried to wring every inch of pleasure from this. But eventually he had to pull out, had to separate, but he didn't want to lose the connection. Thinking for a moment, both of their breaths still coming fast and harsh in the dark room, Steve pressed his face to Christian's neck as he lifted his hips, his hands going down to grip the condom as he pulled out. Then Steve slid to Christian's side, reaching behind him to toss the used condom in the trash.

"Good...great, that was great." Steve nuzzled his face against Christian's, their whiskers catching. "I'm going to untie you from the headboard. Just lay still." Steve kept his knee pressed close to Christian's side as he kneeled up to reach the ties, releasing Christian's arms. Slowly, Steve lowered them on top of Christian's body, his hands busy rubbing out the muscles.

Christian groaned, a worn out happy sound as he still made no movements of his own. Steve then untied Christian's bound hands, massaging his wrists in the same way before pressing a kiss to each. The skin was no more blemished that it had been, Steve was happy to note. Then, after everything else, Steve said, already helping Christian lift his neck. "I'm going to remove the blindfold."

Steve hadn't known until that moment that he was afraid to see what would be in Christian's eyes now. Long lashes fluttered as Christian blinked in the dim light. Steve kept up his rubbing of Christian's wrists probably out of his own nervousness than for Christian's sake. But soon enough, Christian's eyes were focusing on his face.

Without any sort of a plan, Steve wrapped his hands around Christian's cheeks, leaning in for a slow kiss. His fingers began to gently massage Christian's temples as he looked over the other man for any sign of discomfort. But Christian seemed just as relaxed as before. "You ok?" Steve asked softly.

Christian nodded and swallowed, his own hands coming up to rub Steve's wrists where they still held Christian's face. "Yeah. Holy shit, but yeah."

Their lips were still smiling as Steve brought them together again. "I'm going to get you a washcloth."

And, still Christian lay there, sated and debauched and strewn over the bed, letting Steve take care of him. Steve's heart swelled, not wanting to leave the room for the second that it would take to get a wet washcloth. But he did and when he returned, Christian was in the same spot. The tiger transformed to a kitten, practically purring under Steve's ministrations. Steve left again to put the cloth in the sink, but hurried back as if Christian would recover himself if Steve were gone too long.

Christian smiled softly though as Steve crawled on the bed, cuddling himself on top of Steve as he laid down on his back, taking that comfort that was so freely given. Steve's smile was so wide it ached as he wrapped his arms around Christian's back. Holy shit indeed, Steve thought. It worked.

Steve had just been sitting back, assuming that Christian would come to him if the man wanted to talk. Why it should surprise him that Christian would need the opposite of what Steve himself usually wanted, Steve didn't know. Christian needed to break down, needed Steve to be the strong one, the one in control. But as Steve relaxed all of his muscles against the mattress, pushed down by Christian's weight on top of him, he realized that he needed it too. Taking control of the situation relieved Steve's own tension, reminded him that he was strong enough to get through this and that he didn't have to just sit patiently, uselessly by while Christian struggled. Steve needed to be shown that Christian trusted him as much as he trusted Christian.

It was so late, or early, that Steve figured there wouldn't be any more nightmares tonight. And as for the morning, Steve was still apprehensive as to what the sun would bring, but he was feeling a lot better about it.

**********************

Steve woke much too soon to sunshine hitting his face. He shifted in displeasure at being awake, only then becoming aware of the weight on top of him and then, unexpectedly, there were gentle, reassuring kisses along his jaw and collarbone. At first, he stilled his movements, even his breathing in surprise at the soft press of lips, but then he was relaxing with a long sigh, his breath stirring dark, tousled waves. It was a much better wake up call than he could have expected. Christian was still warm and pliant, still relaxed after his outburst last night.

For a moment, Steve just pressed his cheek against the top of Christian's head, waiting for the peace to be broken, for Christian to run off to make breakfast or shower or hit the gym or something now that Steve was awake. But after long minutes where they simply lay quietly, Christian only moving with Steve's breath and his own, Steve moved one hand, gently caressing Christian’s back. When that only resulted in another kiss pressed against the side of Steve's throat, Steve used his other hand to grip the dark hair, pulling Christian’s head back just enough that Steve could place his own kiss on Christian’s forehead. Christian not only allowed himself to be maneuvered but then snuggled his face back into Steve’s neck. Steve was inclined to never move again.

But as he lay there, Steve's mind wandered without fail to all of those unanswered questions. Last night, Steve had pushed the issue of Christian's nightmares. Christian had at first resisted and then thrown his past in Steve's face, trying to push Steve away with the truth. This morning's peace was the product of last night's battle. The question was now if Steve were to ask, were to push Christian for more information, how would Christian respond? Steve was wary of disturbing the peace that now surrounded them, but maybe now would be the best time. Maybe Christian needed Steve to ask, needed to know that Steve wanted to know, was willing to know. There were certain to be many more battles in the future. It was time to stop suppressing his curiosity, to drop his own mask.

When Christian had had amnesia, he had recovered memories from his childhood first. Steve figured it would be best to start there. And if Steve’s arm tightened around Christian, that was just a precaution.

“So you were born in Texas…and grew up in Oklahoma with your mom and little sister?” Steve phrased it as a question and waited until Christian nodded to continue, making it clear that this conversation was going to require Christian’s participation. “How old were you when your father passed away?”

Christian squirmed for a moment, but didn’t try to get away, his behavior convincing Steve that it was the right thing to ask about the distant past first, even though it couldn't be a happy memory.

“I was eight.” Christian's voice was soft, like Steve's was when he asked the question, pressed together like this they didn't need much volume. But even so it was full of bravado, a simple answer with no hesitation.

Steve was well prepared at this point to ask numerous questions until he got the full story. “And you were living in…?”

“Oklahoma.”

“How did he die?” Though he hadn’t been speaking loudly before, Steve’s voice dropped as he asked that question.

“He shot himself.”

Uhh, Steve's brain stuttered. It was not an answer that he had been expecting, nor the same calm frankness with which it was said. Course Christian had only been eight at the time.

“Why?”

Christian’s face pressed against the skin of Steve’s neck for a second in hiding before he pulled back a little so his answer would be heard. Christian seemed to need to think about his answer because Steve could literally feel Christian's frown and his frustrated tension. And when he spoke, Christian's accent was more pronounced. “He, uh…I don’t know. How would anyone know what was in his head? He had trouble holdin' down a job, s’why we moved around so much. He drank. But I know what you’re thinking and it wasn’t like that.”

“What was it like?”

“The only person he hurt was himself. He’d get clumsy, fall down, knock things over. Momma’d freak out about him getting near us, particularly Jenny in her crib. But sometimes he’d pick me up. He’d hold me in his lap and we’d watch tv while he drank.”

Steve felt Christian make a shrugging motion like there was nothing wrong with that picture. Still Steve didn't think that it was worth it to point out, Christian seemed to be fairly loyal to the man’s memory. And there were plenty more recent tragedies to explore.

“Where did he…?” Steve couldn’t even bring himself to say the words and it hadn’t been his father.

“In the living room.” Though Christian’s voice was still calm, it had dropped to a whisper as if he were channeling the eight year that he had been. “Momma wouldn’t leave us with him, so we came back from errands that day and found him.”

Steve gripped Christian tighter, pressing a kiss into the dark hair. “I’m sorry.” The words were woefully inadequate but he hoped that Christian would understand the sentiment all the same. But Christian gave him no sign, simply lying quiet still, only slightly more tense against Steve's chest.

He hated to continue after that tragic story but he didn’t want to stop, not while Christian was cooperating, wasn’t trying to run away. Not while there were so many more things Steve wanted to understand. “Your mom must have loved him anyway…if she were so distraught after his death.”

Christian nodded, Steve felt the movement rather than saw it. “And she had to get a job?”

“She had a part time job before, just trying to keep us fed. Had to leave us with neighbors but…she wasn’t…she didn’t…” Steve waited while Christian got his thoughts straight. “She had dropped out of high school. So she had to work a couple of different jobs...afterwards.”

“And you watched your sister?”

“Yeah, she had just started school so she would wait for me to catch the bus.”

Steve could imagine what happened then, an eight year old Christian watching his sister all day, cooking her dinner, helping with her homework maybe.

“And then you got a job to help out.” Steve continued.

“Yeah, as soon as I could. I wasn’t always this big and strong…” Christian paused, nudging Steve's side probably hoping to get a laugh out of Steve that never came. “But as a boy, I made more working at a nearby barn than she did at her jobs. They didn't mind that I was underage and I did it as much as possible so momma could come home to Jenny sometimes.”

Whatever else Steve might have asked was interrupted by the not-unexpected rumble of Christian’s stomach. Steve laughed then, glad that some things hadn’t changed.

Christian was squirming a little, impatient but Steve took the time to roll the other man onto his back. He wanted to look at Christian’s face before they got up and began the routine of the day, before Christian put on those masks that helped him function. He wanted to feel that skin against his own for just a little while longer.

He was glad that he had taken that moment because Christian’s face was soft, open to Steve’s gaze, hopeful in expression despite their conversation. Christian looked at him with love. And then Christian strained upwards, his lips presented for a kiss that Steve was only too happy to give, his hand sliding up to support Christian’s neck as Steve took a minute to explore those lips that he hoped to memorize one day.

It was with a light-hearted grumble that he allowed Christian to push him away. “Later, I’m hungry.” And Christian gave him such a pout, complete with round, pleading eyes.

Rolling his eyes despite that Steve was certain he would never be able to refuse that look, Steve gripped Christian’s arms and pulled the other man up to sitting with him. “Pancakes?” he ventured, pleased when Christian’s pout transformed to a happy grin. Steve found the grin even more sweet as he remembered the despair he had heard in Christian's voice only the night before.

Steve wanted to just tackle Christian back to the bed for being so adorable, but, in deference to Christian's stomach, Steve stood and pulled out two pairs of pajama pants, throwing one at Christian. Though there was a bathroom downstairs, Christian waited for Steve to be done with the one upstairs before he went in.

Christian joined him in the kitchen a few minutes later, smelling minty fresh as Christian reached past him to get the water pitcher out of the refrigerator. As Steve watched his curiosity re-emerged and as was wary as he still was to break the peace, he gave in.

“You remember everything from when you had amnesia, right?”

Christian looked at him quizzically as he filled up both cups that he had brought from upstairs. “Yeah,” he said suspiciously.

“That must be weird, remembering what you did, how you felt when you didn’t remember.”

Christian chuckled, “You have no idea.”

“Well, why were you so weird about water?”

Christian seemed confused for a moment and Steve prepared himself for some kind of self-righteous denial of how vulnerable and frightened he had been. And then incongruously, Christian laughed again under his breath.

He put the water on the table and took a seat before speaking. “God, you don’t even know how important water is. From the first day of basic training to the last time that I got caught, water was the end all, be all.”

“Yeah?” Steve felt stupid, of course water was important, everyone knew that but Christian had been so weird about it. Fortunately Christian seemed ok sharing some of this information.

“Yeah, you have to drink it when you can. I remember guys passing out from dehydration during drills in basic…you’d never get the same kind of respect again after that. It was a sign of weakness and of not being prepared.”

Ouch, Steve thought, as if he needed further proof of Christian living in some kind of testosterone charged hierarchy. But amazingly Christian kept talking.

“I remember a mission once in the jungle, the air was so thick with moisture it was like walking through fog all the time, and yet there was no drinkable water.”

“But if it’s so important why didn’t you ask me for it?”

And there was that dark curtain dropping over Christian’s face. Steve watched as first Christian shrugged bashfully before speaking. “It’s hard to explain. It was yours…you were in control of it.”

“You didn’t think I’d give it to you?”

“No, well, sort of, in the beginning. I was so confused at first. I didn’t want to show weakness that I needed it, and I didn’t want to ask for more when you had already given so much. Even at the end, water is so important that I hated to just take it or ask for it, and when you gave it freely, it showed…”

“It showed that I cared about you and would care for you.”

Christian flushed but nodded in agreement of Steve’s assessment.

“And when you were caught?”

Christian went very still, his earlier upswing of energy suppressed like a lead weight was sitting on him. “Dehydration is quicker than starving a man. When we were together…when I was with a team, at the end…It turned us against one another. If we split the water evenly, none of us would quench our thirst. And some of the guys got infections early. We fought over whether the water should go to them because they were sick or whether they should go to those who were still healthy…who might make it out alive.”

“Christian…” Steve breathed the word out, but there were no words for this. Steve was already moving, kneeling again by the man’s chair and wrapping his arms around Christian’s waist, his cheek pressed to a firm pectoral. And Christian accepted it. He didn't try to pull away, didn't try to comfort Steve instead simply laying his hands on Steve's arms. Steve felt tears prick his eyes but he couldn’t decide whether it was for what Christian had been through or because Christian had shared some of his ordeal and then accepted comfort.

Course he had forgotten the pancakes on the stove, which his nose reminded him of just before Christian said, “I think something’s burning.”

Steve let go with a curse under his breath, pulling back to look at Christian who offered a weak smile for him. It was enough that Steve stood and went back to the stove. He had to throw that one in the trash but there was plenty more batter. Though there was silence for a minute as Steve worked, Christian then stood and got out silverware and butter and syrup.

“But I can get things for myself now,” Christian said, a smirk in his voice but Steve took it as an acknowledgement that Christian was becoming secure in his place here.

Steve said, “But I’ll still take care of you,” before he could stop himself. Christian’s eyes widened in surprise at the words and the candid nature of them, but then he just nodded and ducked his head as he went back to setting the table.

They were busy eating when Christian brought it up again. “Man, forgetting everything like that was weird, though.”

“You’re right, I can only imagine.”

Christian grinned, closemouthed around his bite of pancake and swallowed before continuing. “I mean, it was like I knew that there was something to be afraid of, like I might need the water for something, but I didn’t know what I was scared of. I wasn’t scared of you…well, you know, after the very beginning, I wasn’t.”

Steve smiled himself, “See, it was like you were still you, but you didn’t know why you were like that.”

Christian shook his head like a dog at that statement. “Uh, whatever that meant.”

“Nevermind, you were still you.”

They finished and loaded the dishwasher, heading into the living room. Steve sighed, opening the door of the music room almost reluctantly. “I guess I should practice the set for the gig tomorrow. Not like I haven’t played it a thousand times but…”

Steve brought out both guitars just out of habit really, handing one off to Christian who for the moment was more interested in watching him than playing it. “You’re not excited.”

Steve’s smile was rueful. “I will be tomorrow. Don’t pay any attention to me, I just like to complain. It’s just a good thing that the regular band will be there so we don’t have to be there super early to practice with somebody new.”

Stopping his fingers from tuning the guitar for a moment, Steve looked up at Christian. “I’ll still have to go early to set up and whatnot. Do you want to come early with me or you could ride with Jensen and Jared…or you don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

Christian’s smile was indulgent again. “Of course, I want to hear you play for a crowd. You’re so mellow, I can’t wait to see you surrounded by screaming fans.”

Steve laughed despite himself.

“I’ll go early with you. See how things are done, you know.” Christian seemed hopeful and reluctant again, obviously thinking of how he promised to start a band last night.

The enthusiasm that Steve had felt when Christian had first agreed to the band came back, but he didn't let it out yet. He would understand if Christian had changed his mind or even if Christian had just said it because he didn't know how else to answer David's question. “You don’t have to be a musician if you don’t want. You worked in a barn before? You could do that if you wanted.”

“I do want to start a band, I’m just…” Steve heard the ‘scared’ that Christian couldn’t say. “I just don’t want to screw up.”

Steve also didn't miss the pitiful look that Christian shot at him as the dark haired man said the words. Steve knew that Christian also meant that he didn't want to screw up Steve's career.

“Hey, it’s gonna take some time to get used to things, no matter what you decide to do. We’ll start small, ok?”

Christian nodded, but ducked his face away. Steve had actually thought about asking Christian to sing “One Thing” with him, but that didn’t seem like a great idea now. Course maybe he’d ask tomorrow anyway, just so that he didn’t leave Christian out. It kind of felt like their song now and, yes, he knew how girly that sounded.

“Just don’t be afraid to tell me, ‘no’, ok?”

Christian smirked, but agreed. Steve went through his set list, during which Christian set his guitar aside and simply listened, going through the sheet music that Steve had gotten out. Then they played some together.

“So what does one do at a barn exactly?”

Christian laughed full and deep at that, which Steve thought was great but didn’t understand the reason for it. “Oh, you’re a real country boy, aren’t ya?” Christian asked, his accent pronounced in jest.

Steve shook his head still confused, prompting Christian to continue. “It was a horse barn. Eventually I even helped to train some of the   
horses.”

“And you don’t want to do that now?”

Christian shrugged, his fingers still playing over the strings. “I love horses, loved that place. The horses were always there for me, you know. Even though it was a job and sometimes I’d have to get up in the middle of the night to go over there for this or that, it was satisfying. The horses didn’t always do what I wanted, but they weren’t ever disappointed in me. They didn’t get mad at me when I wouldn’t let them stay out with their friends or moan about what I made for dinner. They didn’t look at me with that painful disappointment when my report card came, they didn’t ask me for my paycheck with that mixture of hopefulness and chagrin on their faces…But I don’t have any formal training to really do that…and I like this.”

Christian paused for a long moment, his face drawn in thought, leaving Steve thinking for a moment baout Christian's childhood. Christian had been the second parent, taking care of a child and a house and working. All the while dealing with his mother's guilt that she needed the help.

After a moment, Christian continued. “Music was a childhood dream, you know? I guess we'll see how I feel about it when I really get started, but…I don’t know, I want people to see me. I love to sing, love how it makes me feel, love how you can lose yourself in the emotion of it. I want to write the songs and let it out…I guess.”

Christian seemed embarrassed over what he had revealed but it made Steve’s heart soar that he had given Christian something that brought him some sort of release. He himself couldn’t wait to see Christian onstage, knowing instinctively how well Christian would respond to the crowd, how he responded to other people, so much more sensitive than you would think.

Steve just nodded trying to keep a lid on his enthusiasm, saying only, “I think you’d be good at it.”

Christian smiled softly. “So the guys are coming to the show tomorrow?”

“Yeah, they usually try to come to shows that are close by.”

Christian nodded.

“Do you…” Steve felt ridiculous for asking this like Christian was a five year old, but he wanted to know the answer. “You like them right? Like hanging out with them?”

Christian shot him a funny look, but answered, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know. I mean they don’t really know you.”

Christian’s face darkened. “Yeah, well I don’t really want them to know everything about me.”

Steve nodded. He had known that Christian would say something like that. “You don’t have any friends from before though?”

“No,” the word was harsh. “As a thief, I worked alone, forget that 'honor among thieves' bullshit, I didn't trust any of them. And I wouldn’t contact anyone I know still alive in the military.”

“Nobody from high school?”

Christian averted his face in a jerky movement. “I didn’t have a lot of time or energy. There were girls, but…”

“And you don’t want to contact your family?”

Steve knew that Christian considered that too far when the man stiffened like he was going to run. “No,” he said simply.

Then as Steve had figured, Christian stood, setting the guitar aside. “I’ll make us some lunch. Anything you want in particular?”

Steve let him go, just shaking his head. Maybe Christian was right and both he and they were better off without changing the past that said that Christian Kane was dead and buried, a hero. But he couldn’t help wanting Christian to have a family. Of course Steve planned to introduce the man to his parents. Once Christian was more settled, Steve hoped that they would spend holidays with his folks, but it still wouldn’t be the same as Christian’s own family. Nothing could ever replace that.

Particularly because Christian clearly still cared for the two women, apparently keeping track of them, sending them money still.

Lunch was pretty quiet particularly after Steve, unable to keep his mouth shut at this point blurted out, “You don’t hover over your food anymore either.”

Christian had clearly been embarrassed about behaving as a junkyard dog and didn’t finish his food afterward. Apparently it was one thing to talk about how important water was and another for Christian to act like his food might be stolen away. It also prompted Steve to realize that it was a difficult line to walk between not harping on the past and not ignoring it.

After lunch Steve grabbed the remote turning on the tv. Just on a hunch, an experiment, Steve turned it to a girly show, Design Star. Then he placed the remote between them on the couch and acted as if he were mildly interested in it, but also picked up the sheet music as if his attention were split.

It only took a couple of minutes during which Christian picked up his book and squirmed some, but then he grabbed the remote with a huff.

“What is this? And what are they doing to that room? Are you seriously interested in watching this?”

Steve looked up, keeping the smile off his face with great difficult. He should be an actor at this point, really. “No, not really.”

Christian started switching the channels absently. He paused on the Spike channel’s “Deadliest Warrior” but eventually settled on a   
college baseball game. Then he settled back down with his book, seeming to actually read it this time.

But Steve couldn’t help asking, “So when we watched Top Chef, were you wishing the whole time that I would change the channel?”

Christian stared at him uncomprehending for a minute before he broke out into a smile. “Naww, it was entertaining. I wasn’t really up to reading at that point and it was mindless and kept my mind off things.” He paused for a moment before speaking again in a softer tone of voice. “You were great. I was like a damaged little kid and you kept me fed and clean and entertained.”

Steve smiled despite himself, feeling a little proud. “So I’m guessing you didn’t watch a lot of tv before now?”

“Nope. Didn’t like to have a lot of free time and didn’t normally spend the effort to get cable installed in wherever I was staying. Sometimes I watched it in motels.”

“Being a musician is like this, the occasional lulls between bouts where you don’t have enough time to breathe much less sleep.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Well, if you’re on tour its constant gigs and practice and interviews and driving and flying. And then if you make an album, you’ve only got the studio for a small window of time, so you have to have everything together prior to that and then you need to be in the studio as much as possible while you’ve got it. You want it to be perfect. But then you have some time to catch your breath and write some new stuff.”

Christian laughed a little. “I think I can handle that.”

“You get used to it.” Steve didn’t voice the thought that he was sure that Christian had lived through worse schedules.

Steve settled in with his own book, he wasn’t a huge fan of baseball, particularly not on tv. He wasn’t surprised when he ended up with Christian’s feet in his lap. It was like the man couldn't let Steve just be, to mark Steve as his or something. It might have normally annoyed Steve but from Christian, it was kind of cute.

After a while though, Christian moved more into Steve’s space. It was becoming obvious that the man was pretty fidgety with amnesia and without, and he seemed to need a lot of attention. Still Steve was a little surprised when Christian basically crawled into his lap. He didn’t complain though, not when Christian's hands were warm on his face, strong and capable and confident, reverent as they maneuvered Steve in the kiss, not when Christian began undulating, rubbing their cocks together, the cotton cloth so thin between them that Steve could feel Christian's dick hardening as clearly as he felt his own. He didn't complain when Christian began removing their clothes and particularly not when Christian went off naked to find lube and condoms and then rode Steve's cock on the couch that they had spent so much time on, controlling the sex but not controlling it, getting as much out of it as Steve was when he threw his head back with a howl.

And after a short rest, Christian was ready to be fed again. Steve laughed to himself as Christian went off to the bathroom to clean himself up. It was still a little like taking care of a child. Steve cooked this time, but Christian kept helping, taking things out of the refrigerator and adding them to what Steve was doing, exchanging one ingredient for another. All of it without a word, the man just expecting his will be to be obeyed. And sadly enough Steve was only too willing to oblige him. Once Steve had smacked Christian's hand when he reached out to grab a slice of carrot but Christian had looked at him with such shocked dismay, big round innocent eyes filled with indignation and sorrow at being chastised above full pouting lips. Steve was the one who ended up feeling guilty, feeding the carrot to Christian himself before chasing the taste of it down Christian's throat, leaving Christian happy as a clam and just a little smug. And while they worked, Steve talked about the process of writing some of his songs, Christian seeming rapt at the instruction.

“How early do we need to go tomorrow?” Christian asked later when they were again seated on the couch. And Steve was never gonna look at that couch the same way again. It wasn’t the first couch that he had ever had sex on, and there had been stranger places, but it was Christian.

“After lunch probably.”

“So I can still make it to the gym in the morning?”

Steve tried to restrain his laugh. He supposed Christian had a good reason to be a little anal when it came to the gym, plus the man had   
energy to burn. “Sure, can I come with you?”

Christian looked up at Steve’s amused face. “I don’t know, you might distract me.”

So, of course, Steve had to lunge at Christian, tackle him onto the couch cushions and beg to go, using his own version of puppy dog eyes and pouting lips while leaning his chin on Christian's chest. Christian’s genuine laughter sounded better every time he heard it.

That night Steve didn’t even have to pull Christian into position. They stripped off and Christian immediately moved into Steve’s side. All their progress that day wasn’t enough to stop the nightmares though. Steve had to wonder if anything would.

Just like every other night, Steve stroked and murmured while Christian shuddered and shook, whimpered and whined. And then woke.

To Steve’s continual surprise, it was Christian who spoke first, his voice still shaky. “I’m sorry. I don’t normally have nightmares like this.”

That was kind of surprising, but Steve imagined that recent events had brought things to the surface that Christian had probably kept buried. Christian had learned to deal with his fears, to deal with the life that he had led, but he must be scared out of his mind in this new situation. Still, “Really?” he asked.

“Yeah, I don’t know. I don’t usually spend a lot of time thinking about the past. Just, you know, did what was necessary, went to sleep whenever I could knowing I'd need the energy later.”

“What’s waking you up?”

Christian sighed and buried his face in the pillow beside Steve’s head. But Steve wasn’t going to let him hide from this. “Christian…”

Christian rolled to his other side, away from Steve but as usual, Steve just followed, molding himself to the other man’s back. “Tell me.”

“Where do I start?” Christian’s voice was like a wail though soft in volume, a desperate plea for judgment and understanding. “The first time I stabbed a man and watched him disappear from his eyes? The first time that I realized one of our bullets had hit a child and knew that that was our job, our mission? The first time that one of my squad members died in my arms or when I watched a team member, a man that I was supposed to protect, scream in agony? The first time that I was caught by myself, alone in a cell with nobody to even care if I died?”

Steve didn’t respond, simply held on, letting Christian get it out as he so obviously needed to, like draining pus from a wound. “Tonight it was the first time that I was electrocuted. I’ve never looked at a car battery the same way.”

Steve buried his own face in Christian's neck, not wanting to think about Christian in such a position, in such pain. Unfortunately, thanks to television, Steve had an all too vivid picture in his head. Christian bound like he had been last night, but not on a soft bed, hanging from his wrists. He could picture the strain to Christian's muscles as the current flowed through them, the sweat that would break out, the shuddering of overtaxed muscles afterwards, the dull terrorized sheen to Christian's eyes in his agonized face. Steve even imagined that he could smell the burnt flesh, knowing the smell from an accident or two in the kitchen. But he kept stroking Christian’s skin, inadvertently aware of every scar that his hands passed over.

“God, you can feel them, and you know. I don’t know what to do with that. You’re not just a chick I picked up who thinks that they’re cool, battle scars or whatever. You know that they’re not signs of strength, they’re marks of weakness. Times when I wasn’t strong enough or fast enough or sneaky enough or just plain lucky enough. Times when I screamed out in agony and despair, screamed for the pain to stop. You can be prepared for torture, but everybody breaks, everybody.”

Steve waited, making sure that Christian was done before he spoke. “I think you’re incredibly strong. You did your best to help your mother and give your sister everything that you didn’t get to have. And you survived. You crawled out from those places and continued to function and more than that, you kept intact that part of you that wanted to be different, that had the ability to be different than what the Army trained you for. They are signs of strength. You’re here and you’re trying and you’re going to make it, make a new life.”

Not able to stand it any longer, Steve pulled at Christian until the man reluctantly turned over, burying his suspiciously wet face in Steve’s bare chest. Even as he held Christian and comforted him, Steve started to think that maybe he should look into getting a therapist for himself irrespective of what Christian eventually did.

As before, Christian slowly but surely went limp and pliant in Steve’s arms, worn out by his words and emotions and memories. Now was the time that Christian needed comfort the most Steve thought, when he had given up control and simply trusted in Steve for safety and security. And Steve did his best to wrap completely around Christian, to coccoon the other man with his own body, squeezing Christian's lax form before running his hands along limp limbs, entertwining his legs with Christian's that were easily moved, easily spread to allow Steve between them. He pressed a kiss into Christian's hair before shifting the man up higher on his chest. Christian's breath evened out in sleep before Steve's did.

**************************

For the second morning, Steve woke to find that they were still in a warm pile on the bed, Christian still a relaxed weight against his side trailing the tips of fingers lightly over his arm. The peace and calm and togetherness just further convinced Steve that these outbursts were actually improving Christian’s situation, bleeding the tension away. Steve wasn’t surprised that Christian would have highs and lows as he adapted to his new life, worked through emotions he had probably kept long buried. Every time Christian released his self-loathing, he probably expected Steve to give up on him. And every time that Steve stayed, Christian trusted him more.

And so each outburst ended with Christian pliant, safe and secure in his arms. It was definitely worth it.

Steve must have made some movement to show that he was awake because Christian rolled slightly away, not out of Steve’s arms but far enough so that they could see one another’s face.

“Still want to go to the gym?”

Steve frowned playfully. “You act like I’m lazy.”

Christian smiled, sweet and easy and then rolled on top of Steve, fitting himself between Steve's legs and bending down to place a kiss on Steve’s flat stomach. “Naww,” he said, the word a low purr, his smile turning predatory.

“Stop or we’re not gonna make it to the gym,” Steve said, ignoring how breathless he sounded to his own ears.

With an evil chuckle, Christian rolled off and stood up. Christian flicked the sheet off, exposing Steve to his gaze before he turned to the dresser to get dressed. Steve figured that turnabout was fair play and so he took a minute to stretch extravagantly, stretching his arms to the head board, arching his back off the mattress seemingly unconcerned about his morning half-hard dick lifted off his thigh.

Christian stopped in the midst of putting on his t-shirt and stared. For a moment Steve thought that they wouldn't be going to the gym after all, but then Christian shook himself and growled, stalking out the bedroom door with his t-shirt half on, his voice coming back to Steve’s ears, “Get up! I’ll make breakfast.” Then there was the sound of the bathroom door closing just a little too loudly.

Yep no matter how his heart broke having to listen to the tragedies of Christian’s life, listening to Christian’s own self-loathing, it was worth it for moments like this.

Steve sat down at the breakfast table with a smirk on his face, but they didn't have time to goad one another any more. Breakfast was quick and then they were dressed for the gym. Christian still entered the gym first, was still oddly aware and suspicious of his surroundings. And he smiled at the receptionist that had helped him become a member on his way in. But even that didn’t dampen Steve’s mood, particularly when they were chatting and he saw Christian’s left hand reach toward his right wrist for the bracelet that wasn’t there, the aborted movement making Christian search for Steve's face.

They didn’t have time for Steve to ask any more questions about Christian’s past and he wasn’t inclined to ruin this easy, real happiness. Surely he could have just one day of cease-fire, one day to enjoy the hard-won fruits of his labors before the struggle began again. They went back to the house, ate lunch, and showered. Steve had to insist on separate showers.

While Steve was picking out a shirt to wear, Christian was at the dresser. Steve didn't even notice what the other man was doing until Christian turned to him with a shy expression and held out a couple of necklaces. "Here, you could wear these."

Christian's voice was gruff, trying too hard to sound nonchalant, and he shrugged and turned away as soon as Steve took the jewelry. But no matter how hard Christian was trying to hide, Steve's smile would not be hidden. Christian hadn't touched Steve's jewelry before, so Christian must be feeling more secure. But more than that, Steve felt that by picking something out for him, Christian was putting his own mark on Steve, realizing that Steve was as invested in their partnership as Christian was.

Steve put the jewelry on, taking the bracelets that Christian also picked out once he saw Steve's face. Then they packed the guitar into the car and they were off.

Steve talked on the trip about the beginning of his musical career, the trials and tribulations and uncertainties, when he had to haul around the sound equipment around himself in his car and set it up too. He teased Christian about how lucky he was that in the beginning of his music career, he had Steve to help show him the ropes. Christian laughed good-naturedly, agreeing with Steve and soothing more of Steve’s fear that Christian had only agreed to the band to please him.

And when they got to the bar, Christian actually seemed interested in what was going on, the set up of the equipment, the sound checks, the other instruments. Steve loved performing, the energy of the crowd, getting immediate feedback on his music, trying new things with old songs. But tonight he was even more excited to perform for Christian. He wanted Christian to love it, to have a great time and be even more excited to try it himself.

Finally there was a lull, where Steve got a drink and went over to where Christian was sitting.

“Hey stud,” Christian drawled. “So when do the groupies get here?”

Steve scowled though he knew that it was a useless gesture with the smile in his eyes. “Soon, but speaking of groupies…I don’t suppose you want to join me onstage to sing “One Thing”?”

Christian didn’t lose his smile, simply ducked his head and shook it. He met Steve’s eyes again before speaking. “No, I don’t want to intrude and I’ll have my chance soon enough. I just want to watch you.”

Steve was torn between thinking that it was sweet and disappointment that Christian had refused. Really, he was just being impatient for things to come together, for Christian to have something besides just Steve to keep him here, perhaps.

But he smiled and leaned in for a short kiss before there was a familiar voice behind him.

“The public indecency has started already, Steve?”

Steve smiled as he recognized Jensen’s voice, but as he turned to see his friend, he didn't miss the fact that Christian was smiling too. He was glad that Christian wasn’t embarrassed at others seeing them together and that he seemed genuinely happy to see Steve’s friend.

Soon they all had another round of drinks and David and Mike had shown up.

“So this is your first attempt at being a musician?” Jensen asked Christian.

Steve practically held his breath as Christian answered, cool as a cucumber. “Yeah, I’ve always wanted to, but I had…other responsibilities.”

“Were you one of those teens who had a band in their parent’s garage?” David teased.

But Christian just kept smiling though it looked just a little different to Steve. “Nah, but I bet Steve did.”

Steve took the ribbing good-naturedly. “Hey! Everybody’s got to start somewhere.” He had never actually had a band as a teen, but it was all in fun anyway.

“What did you do before? I don’t think you ever said,” David continued.

Christian didn’t even pause, “This and that, did you always want to own a sports gear store? It’s not too late to follow your dreams of fame too.”

“Actually, I like my store very much thank you. You should come by sometime. Do you play any sports?”

“No, not really.” Christian might have been about to expand on that answer when he was interrupted.

“Oh God!” Jensen cried. “Do not let him talk you into joining some adult sports team like softball. It’s miserable.”

“What?” David asked, looking guileless. “It’s great. You get to enjoy the outdoors, get a little exercise…”

“Because we sucked!” Jensen decried David's reasoning. “And Jared’s terrible aim almost killed some sixty year old man on the other team.”

At that Jared looked really sheepish, but didn’t deny it. “I’ve got really long limbs, it’s hard to get the ball to go where I want it to.” When his  
excuse didn't work, Jared scowled. “Geez, you guys will never forget that, will you?”

“We just need to find the sport that fits you, gigantor,” David said, relentless in his love of sports.

Then Steve was called to the back. He had almost forgotten what he was here for, just having fun with his friends at another bar. But looking around, he could see that things were about to get started, the crowd already arriving. “Hey, I’ll see you guys after the show.” Steve couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to Christian’s temple, for luck he told himself. Fortunately, Christian didn’t seem to mind, smiling up at him.

The show went great. The crowd was big and energetic. The spotlights blinded him but just knowing that Christian was out there made   
him smile brighter, play more passionately. And when he got to “One Thing”…he couldn’t help the mix of happiness and sadness in his voice but love colored the whole song.

He was congratulating the other guys backstage when he heard shouting and a scuffle, and then screaming. It could have been anything, but Steve pushed past the other band members to get out front to see.

By the time he got there, past the frightened and disgruntled fans, things had seemingly settled. His eye fell first to a couple of men lying bloody on the bar room floor, but he didn’t recognize any of them…his eyes lifted to search the crowd, and then he saw Christian.

Christian was on the other side of the crowd, obviously still angry as he struggled slightly against the hold that David had on the smaller man, and there was blood on his face. Again.

Steve ran over, hearing David’s words as he got closer, “Whoa, Rambo. They’re down.”

Before he could get his hands on Christian though, the man had twisted out of David’s grip, getting away without hurting anyone else. Bright and agonized blue eyes stared straight at Steve as Christian said clearly, “I can’t do this.”

Then Christian was off, out the back door. Steve could see the stunned faces of his, their friends staring at him, wanting an explanation but Steve only had eyes for Christian, taking off after the man immediately.

Steve caught him quickly, Christian had slowed right outside the bar, apparently not actually planning to run away or hide or anything else that Steve’s mind had conjured. Christian just seemed lost, upset, unsure. Steve practically tackled the man in a hug.

Steve had expected Christian to fight him but the other man went limp immediately, dragging them both to the ground of the parking lot. Christian was vibrating in his agitation, each breath a sob though Steve couldn’t see if the man was actually crying, pushing against Steve's chest but not actually trying to get away. And he kept repeating, "I can't, I can't do this, I'm not..." And Steve knew that Jensen and David and Jared and Mike were watching them, wondering what was going on, exactly what Christian didn’t want but there was nothing for it.

Steve’s arms tightened around Christian until the other man's elbows buckled, letting him pull them tight together. He just wanted to comfort Christian but didn’t dare loosen his grip to rub Christian soothingly. So he began rocking them a little, trying to soothe Christian with his body and his voice, whisperings words of comfort like 'it's ok' and 'I've got you'. But Christian didn’t seem to be paying him a bit of attention. He had never seen Christian so inconsolable.

He snapped in desperation. “Christian, stop it.”

To his surprise, it worked. Christian stopped his ceaseless talking and stilled in Steve's arms, breathing somewhat deeper though the tension in him didn’t ease. “Tell me what happened.”

Steve made sure to keep his voice firm, much as he felt like he was kicking a puppy to do so. Christian curled more into Steve’s embrace though, and then he began to talk in a shaky, tight voice.

“They…I…”

“Start at the beginning.”

“Jensen…he went to the bar, and everybody was still joking around but I saw…those guys, they were hassling him and one of them put their hand on Jensen’s ass and I…I didn’t mean to.”

“Ok, good. Tell me what you did.”

“I didn’t mean to hit them that hard. I just, I wanted to make sure that they stayed down and I forgot…I forgot that they were just guys.”

“Ok, that was good.” Steve glanced back at the door to the bar, seeing his friends standing there apprehensively. The police had probably been called by now and he didn’t know what to do about that.

David caught his eye then and walked closer, though he stayed back a good ways with a look at Christian huddled on the ground. Steve hoped that the look was because David didn’t want to upset Christian further, not because David was scared of Christian.

“You two get out of here,” David said. Christian flinched in his arms at the sound, but Steve was grateful for the words.

“But the police…”

“We’ll talk to them, tell them that it was Jensen and I, that it was self-defense. I can’t guarantee that they won’t come knocking on your door, but…”

“Thanks.” Steve looked down at Christian in his arms, who was keeping his face ducked away from David’s eyes. He didn’t look like a highly-trained warrior, like an international thief then, he looked a mess. He looked as if he were trying to disappear if he could only curl himself tight enough.

It certainly wasn’t those men that Christian was frightened of, not the police, Christian was still frightened of himself, frightened of his ability to cause harm, frightened that he had ruined his chances to change probably. Frightened that Steve and the other guys would turn their backs on him. Steve knew that later, David and Jensen and everybody would want some kind of explanation, but for now, they were still supporting them and for that, he was immensely grateful.

Softly but still firm, Steve spoke into Christian’s ear, “Stand up.”

Christian complied, his movements as graceful as they ever were. David stepped away, moving back to the door where the other guys still stood and he herded them all back inside. Steve led Christian to his car, trusting that Jensen or somebody would get his guitar.

Steve even went so far as to open the door and usher Christian into the passenger seat, making sure that Christian buckled his seat belt because Steve wasn’t above doing it for him. Then he moved to the driver’s side.

The drive was the most miserable experience of his life, worse than that family vacation when he was fourteen with his parents. He was trapped in the car with Christian, not knowing what to say, knowing that words weren’t all that were needed. And Christian wouldn’t even look at him, keeping his attention staring out into the dark outside the passenger window as he idly wiped away the blood that had run down his face from a cut near his hairline.

This wasn’t like after the other outbursts that Christian had had. They hadn’t had enough time to talk about it, not enough time for Christian to fully work out his emotions. Though, it was also different because this time it wasn’t talking about the past, Christian was upset for hurting someone in the present, when he was supposed to have changed, supposed to have found his conscience. And so Christian was not passive and pliant, he was still tense, thrumming with apprehension.

Steve had some idea what Christian must be thinking, that this was just like those visits home when he had been in the military. Christian's violence had collided with his new existence here, making Christian again feel like an animal not fit to be around 'normal folk' as Christian had said.

Still, Steve endured the drive in silence, because he didn’t want to start anything in the car.

When they got to the house, Christian got out of the car by himself, but he made no move towards the front door. He was undoubtedly unsure of his welcome but Steve didn’t ask, not yet, first he gripped Christian’s elbow and pulled the man inside. He didn’t stop until they had gotten upstairs to the bedroom.

And Steve still had no idea what to say. They both knew that Christian couldn’t go about hitting people, even people who deserved it. Before Christian had needed to talk, to get it off his chest before he felt better, so he asked. “Do you want to talk about it?”

But Christian just shook his head from his position on the bed where Steve had seated him. Great, Steve thought, what now?

“Ok, then how ‘bout I talk? Take off your shirt.”

Confused, Christian looked up at Steve. “You can use your safeword at any time Christian. Do you remember what it is?”

Still confused and hesitant, Christian nodded. “Tell me what it is,” Steve ordered.

“Guitar."

“Ok. Take off your shirt.”

With a stubborn expression, Christian complied, standing up from the bed and ripping off his button-down. "I don't know what you think this is going to accomplish, Steve." Christian began talking as he grabbed the bottom hem of his tank. "You should be kicking me out of your house not playing sex games."

But even as Christian spoke, grumbled and growled, lashed out, Steve became more convinced that this was the best plan. At least the best that he could come up with. If Christian wanted to leave so bad he would have done it by now. He just needed to fight, wanted to push Steve into pushing him away, but Christian wasn't going to leave himself. That had been obvious since the moment that Steve had gone out the door of the bar to find Christian in the back lot.

As Christian stood there, shirtless but looking as proud and stiff as every commercial for the Army, Steve realized that Christian really needed to fight with himself.

"Now take your pants off." Steve's own voice was calm, not soft but not yelling like Christian's voice was verging on. Again Christian complied with a huff of agitation, not teasing, not making a show of it, just leaning over to yank off his boots and then shoving the pants off and away. "And your boxers."

"Listen to me, Steve. I could have killed those guys in there."

"You're right. You have to learn control."

Christian gaped at Steve's casual, concise acknowledgment of what had occurred. Steve registered the expression as he went to his closet to grab the ties again.

When he turned back, Christian had apparently recovered himself, now saying, "I could hurt you," in a quieter tone like a confession.

But Steve didn't even give the comment a first thought, saying, "No you wouldn't. Give me your hands."

Christian immediately thrust his hands out, seemingly unthinking as his face showed shock at Steve's words. There the man was, naked, standing in front of Steve with his hands bound in front of him with Steve's cheap tie and he was still arguing. Steve had a momentary impulse to giggle.

"Steve," Christian said louder, like Steve just couldn't hear him before instead of the truth that Steve was ignoring him. "This is ridiculous. Do you really want to be with me, be with a killer and a thief, a wanted man with fake credentials?!"

Steve stopped being casual then, grabbed Christian's biceps hard with his own not-inconsequential strength as he looked dead into stormy blue eyes. "Yes, I want you, Christian. I know about your past and I want you. And I'm going to have you unless you stop me."

Without waiting for any more of Christian's arguments, he was leading the man backwards to the bed and then pushing Christian down onto it. Steve hoped that he had been clear. He had both taken control away from Christian and given it to him. Though, Steve wasn't as strong as Christian was, he didn't need Christian to make his decisions for him, didn't need Christian to protect him from Christian. Steve trusted Christian, wanted the man to share his life. But Christian had to make his own decision, to stay or go. All it would take to stop was a word.

Pulling on Christian's bound wrists, Christian wiggled his way closer to the headboard. "Turn over," Steve said, continuing this. "On your knees and elbows."

Christian complied easily, allowing Steve to attach the tie to the headboard. But Christian wasn't done mouthing off, couldn't just accept Steve's words so easily or maybe he just needed to tire himself out. Steve didn't know but he was determined to take this as far as Christian needed to go. "What are you going to do?" Christian asked challengingly. "Spank me?"

Well, Steve thought. First he was going to just stare at how fucking hot Christian was with his perfect ass in the air, but spanking sounded like a good suggestion. Steve ran his hand over the downy hair that covered muscular cheeks. Christian twitched.

"I've been tortured by some of the best. You think I'm going to break under your hand, or even a belt?"

Steve wondered whether these were actually suggestions, that Christian wanted to be punished in some way for what he had done. "I don't want to break you. I just want you to let go, let go of all this tension and guilt...This isn't punishment. I forgive you."

He brought his hand down on one plump cheek then causing Christian to jerk forward, clearly surprised that Steve actually spanked him. Steve was surprised at how much his hand hurt, but wasn't surprised that Christian kept talking. "How can you forgive me? I didn't beat the shit out of you."

"Bullshit," Steve said bringing his hand down on the other cheek. "You feel guilty for just being here, for meeting me." Christian stiffened, proving Steve's words. Steve brought his hand down again. "Let it go. It's not your decision, it's mine. My decision, mine." His hand slapping Christian's reddening behind resounded in the room, emphasizing his words.

Steve could tell that Christian's breathing had changed, become shorter, faster, harsher. But he didn't think that Christian was being pushed too far. Getting off the bed, Steve's hands went to his own belt, unbuckling it and pulling it through the loops of his pants. Christian began to struggle at his sudden absence, unable to see what Steve was doing. Steve worried for a second, worried particularly about   
Christian damaging his wrists again, but Steve quickly realized again, that Christian could get out if he really wanted to. He had no doubt that Christian trusted Steve to stop if he said the word, and Steve knew that Christian could break his antique metal bed if he were properly motivated. No, Christian needed to struggle, an outer manifestation of his inner turmoil, and an invitation for Steve to keep going.

A request that Steve couldn't deny. Christian needed him. Steve was the only one that could give Christian this, the only one that Christian trusted to be vulnerable with. And Steve was incredibly touched by that, honored, proud that he could help and comfort someone so incredibly strong, who had been through so much and come out with any humanity left.

Still as he looked between the brown leather belt in his hand and Christian's lightly pinked ass, he felt a little trepidation. He reached out a hand, laying it on Christian's lower back this time, the man stilling under that touch, turning his head in an attempt to see...

Thwack! The sound in the room's silence was terrible. The breath of both men caught in their throats. Steve's hand slid down over the mark, bright on paler skin. Christian pushed back into the touch, breathing out, "Steve..."

Steve couldn't tell if Christian had said his name as a question or an answer, a warning or a plea. The belt landed again with that same crack of sound. And then, Steve could see Christian relaxing, his breathing deeper even though it hitched with every blow. Maybe the pain quieted the worries and guilt swarming in his head, maybe it was the anticipation of each blow that did it or maybe it was the fact that Christian now knew that he could trust Steve with his needs and fears and vulnerability, trust Steve to take control and make him shut up when he started trying to convince Steve to kick him out.

Pausing after each blow to listen, Steve didn't know what he was waiting for, just trusting that Christian would give him a sign. Christian had slumped more, pressing his chest to the bed now, giving up all of his control, letting all of his restless energy bleed out in the pain, trusting Steve enough to let his guard down because Steve would stay in control.

After a while, Steve didn't know how many blows, ten or twenty, Christian gave him the sign, breathing out his name again, so soft that Steve would have missed it if he hadn't been so aware of Christian. At the sound of it, Steve let his hand glide down over the marks, Christian's ass mottled cherry red and bloodless white. Christian twitched again at the touch, but still not trying to get away, and whined deep and needy in his throat, a hurt sound.

Steve climbed on the bed immediately, dropping the belt to put both his hands on Christian's skin. He kneeled between Christian's calves spread on the bed, leaning his body over Christian's back to press a kiss there. "I'm here sweetie. I've got you." Steve wasn't normally one to use pet names but with Christian so open like this, it just felt right. And Christian didn't seem to have a problem with it, rocking his hips back into Steve.

"Need you," Christian whispered, now in that pliant state where he wanted Steve's comfort, exhausted by his struggles.

"Ok," Steve answered, his hands sliding back down to Christian's hips.

"Now," Christian replied. And his voice was so pained, so desperate that Steve did his best to comply. He reached over Christian's back to grab the lube and condoms, pressing another kiss to sweaty skin under him.

He only shoved his own jeans down to about mid-thigh, rolling the condom on immediately, amazed at how turned on he was by the entire proceedings, by Christian's need and trust and ass. Lubing a finger, he pressed it in without preamble, was twisting it when Christian whined again.

"Now."

Shaking his head, but putting extra lube on the condom, Steve lined up and pressed in. The sound Christian made then was broken and vulnerable, split wide open which Steve admitted was true. They moved together, Steve pressing forward and Christian pressing back until they met in the middle. Steve found himself grabbing the sides of his own buttoned up shirt, ripping it open in his own need to get closer, to lay his bare chest on Christian's sweat-slick back.

He grabbed Christian's bunched up biceps again as he began to thrust, his hips snapping hard into Christian's hot, hot ass, burning on the inside and the outside. Steve couldn't even imagine how sore Christian was but the man under him only made noises of pleasure, only arched into the thrusts, Christian's knees spread so wide on the bed his muscles had to be protesting the stretch. It wasn't gentle or slow, but it was inexplicably tender as they both gave into their need for the other. Steve mouthed over the muscles in Christian's back, scraped his teeth over the skin.

Christian's moans became words then. "Yeees," he hissed, encouraging Steve to bite down, sucking a mark there. "Steve, Steve," and he sounded wrecked, by the entire fiasco probably. But it was the next words out of that mouth that struck Steve to the core. "Want you."

Maybe it was Steve's own insecurities but he couldn't remember hearing Christian actually say those words before. It was just understood as Christian tried to convince Steve not to want him. But to hear Christian say it, out loud in that needy, wrecked, painfully honest voice was better than the vice-like feel of Christian's hole.

His own groan then was all of those things and Christian must have heard it and understood because he kept repeating it. "Steeeve, want you, want you..." Christian gasped then as Steve reached down to fist Christian's cock, feeling his own orgasm bearing down on him. His mouth went back to the mark he was creating on Christian's skin as Christian stiffened, wetness covering Steve's hand as Christian pumped sporadically. He bit down again as his thrusts lost their rhythm, mindlessly pumping out his release.

It lasted a small eternity, a moment in time that he would never forget. But when he came down from whatever heaven he had been catapulted to, Steve was quick to move his weight off of Christian, noticing as he pulled out how Christian's thighs shook in exertion. Disposing of the condom, he stayed on his knees there a moment after Christian collapsed on his front. Steve just stroked his hands over Christian's back, not down to his abused ass yet. Laying another kiss to Christian's back, he reached up to release the binds and then said, "I'll be right back."

Standing, Steve stripped off his bunched up, partially ruined clothes before leaving the room. Christian was exactly where he had left the man again when he returned with two washcloths, aloe gel, and fresh sheets. The wet spot was in the center of the bed, there was no avoiding it. With gentle hands and praising words, he coaxed Christian to stand up, the man seeming drunk or asleep on his feet. Steve used one washcloth to wipe the cum off his chest and belly, and the other to wipe the dried blood off of Christian's freshly bruised face. Steve turned Christian's wrists over in his hands, examining them. They were slightly chafed, possibly bruised again, but there was nothing for it. So Steve set about stripping the sheets, Christian watching him placidly until Steve was laying him down again on his stomach.

Now looking at Christian's ass, Steve grimaced, glad that Christian couldn't see the expression on his face. He rubbed the aloe between his hands a moment so it wouldn't be such a shock of cold and then brought his hands down to Christian's flesh. Christian moaned. Steve didn't apologize, just shushed Christian. It had to be done and Christian would feel better in the morning for it. Steve firmly stroked over the flesh, gently massaging into the muscle until Christian was relaxed with it again. Then he wiped his own hands on the washcloth and laid down beside Christian.

On his back, Steve opened his arms, inviting Christian inside, pulling Christian when the man hesitated. He wrapped his arms around Christian, entangling them again and continued massaging Christian's neck and head until Christian was boneless. This didn't fix everything and there were consequences to be faced in the morning, but the most important thing had been dealt with. They were together.

***********************************

Steve woke to an obnoxious, relentless sound that he eventually realized was his phone. With that realization, he tried to sit up only to then realize that there was a heavy weight on top of him holding him down...Christian. It took Steve several minutes after that to untangle himself, because Steve was of the firm opinion that Christian's comfort was, with few exceptions, more important than the phone call. Steve wasn't about to just push the other man off. Instead, Steve lay back down and stroked his fingers through the hair of his disgruntled bed partner, before cradling Christian's head as Steve rolled the man to his back and gave him a morning kiss. Then Steve was finally off the bed and searching for his phone which at this point had stopped ringing.

Looking at the display, Steve didn't know how he felt when he saw that the call was from Jensen. He hadn't yet figured out what he would tell his friends about the events of the previous night. He hated that he was even contemplating lying, hated that this situation made him feel trapped between a rock and a hard place and was tempting him to act in uncharacteristic ways. He didn't lie to his friends and he didn't ignore them either. Jensen, in particular didn't deserve that so, reluctantly, Steve called back.

"Steve?" Jensen put an amazing amount of worry in that one word.

"Yeah, it's me," Steve said, knowing his voice sounded weary and glancing at Christian who lay on his side on the bed, eyes half-lidded but obviously following the conversation. Steve didn't want to hide things from Christian either so Steve settled himself against the headboard of the bed, the hand not holding the phone went back to Christian's hair. He was relieved when Christian shuffled closer, pressing his face to Steve's bare thigh.

Jensen continued talking in his ear, his voice too soft, too gentle, completely unlike Steve had ever heard. Jensen spoke like Steve were a wounded animal he was coaxing to his hand. "I just wanted to make sure you two were ok. How's Christian?"

Steve had to stop himself from fidgeting uncomfortably at the question, not wanting to dislodge the man they were speaking of. "He's ok."

Jensen didn't seem convinced, but he recovered quickly. "Really? That's good. I wanted to let you know that David handled the police, you know he could fucking talk his way out of the electric chair."

Steve laughed grateful though it was half-hearted at best. Jensen kept talking like he hadn't noticed though Steve knew that he had. "Listen, we're going to the bar tonight and we'd really like for y'all..."

Steve cut the sentence off, knowing what Jensen was going to ask. "I don't think that'd be a good idea. Not so soon." Christian rolled away from him then, curling himself on his other side on the edge of the bed, making Steve wonder if he could hear Jensen's side of the conversation too.

But Jensen wasn't to be deterred, as usual. "We really want to see y'all. We're not going to accuse him of anything, Steve, we care about him and you. We just want to know that he's ok. An explanation would be nice too but..."

As Jensen trailed off, Steve was indecisive. "Maybe. Let us talk about it."

For once, Jensen seemed to be satisfied with a 'maybe'. "Ok. Just call me later."

With that the phone went dead, and Steve was left with a once again irritated, hurt, and guilty lover. Sighing, Steve curled up around Christian's back, speaking softly into Christian's ear, his own voice taking on the tone that Jensen's had had. "They want to see you."

"Why?" Christian asked with a voice devoid of its usual complexities of emotions, defeated.

'They care about you."

"They shouldn't. It'd be better for them if they never saw me again."

Steve wasn't psychic but he could see where this was going. Christian was too used to running away, not having to deal with other people. "Christian, you can't run away from them any more than you can me. You'll have to see them eventually, if you want to stay here."

It was a big gamble, leaving that statement open like that, but Steve wanted Christian to want to be here with him, with their friends, and to do that Christian would have to face them. Steve's anxiety rose as Christian stayed quiet.

"Do you want to stay here? With me? Don't you want to stay friends with them?"

If Steve hadn't been lying on the man like a blanket, he would have missed the slight nod of Christian's head. "It's harder to stay, but it's worth it. Try trusting them, like you did me."

They lay in silence for a long while, Christian still stiff with fear. It was an anxiety that Steve couldn't take away, he was as worried about their friends' reactions as Christian was. But that didn't meant that Steve couldn't do his best to distract the both of them. "Hey, you wanna take a shower?"

Christian sighed then. "Yeah I guess I need to."

Steve kissed Christian's neck, not letting go yet. "Can I come?"

Even after the night before, Christian was silent for a moment, presumably thinking before he was said, "Yeah" on a whisper of air right   
before pulling out of Steve's grip. It wasn't a very excited response but Steve followed Christian to the bathroom anyway. They brushed their teeth as they waited for the shower to heat up.

Steve lagged a little behind, simply watching as Christian stepped into the shower first, tilting his face up into the warm water like he could wash away his troubles. Then broad capable hands were scraping his wet hair out of his face as water fell over thick biceps and a powerful chest.

Steve stepped into the shower, wanting to be close to Christian again, wanting to make everything better. He ran his hands over a slick, muscular back, his touch reverent but not intentionally sexual. Christian wasn't startled by the touch, simply looked back over his shoulder and then stepped aside so Steve could move under the spray. It seemed Christian too couldn't keep his eyes nor his hands off of the sight before him, running tentative hands down Steve's chest as Steve stood with his back to the spray.

Moving forward, closer to Christian, the spray now hitting his lower back and buttocks, Steve rubbed the bar of soap between his hands and then reached back out to Christian. And Christian, surprisingly complied, dropping his own hands from Steve's skin, though he kept his eyes up, on Steve's face even as Steve's attention was focused on washing the tan skin in front of him. Steve's hands slid up Christian's neck underneath his hair before traveling down again over Christian's chest.

Steve mapped out each scar there with his thumbs and concentrated on the feel of Christian's skin as he ran his soapy hands over the contours of Christian's compact body. Steve ran his hands over and under Christian's arms. And then instead of asking Christian to turn around, Steve simply stepped closer to reach the man's back and down to Christian's ass. Christian hissed as Steve's hands rubbed over sore skin and dipped between his cheeks, but Steve was fast. He was also fast when washing Christian's half hard cock, though he was thorough, making sure to rid the curls of the man's pubic hair of any remnants of the night before. He even slid to a crouch to wash Christian's legs and feet.

They switched again. Steve was going to continue by washing Christian's hair but Christian grabbed the soap first, repeating the process with Steve's own body. Steve found himself watching Christian's face as Christian had watched his as he had worked. He watched the concentration, the reverence, with which Christian washed him as if Christian were also hoping to memorize this moment. But Christian seemed to want to crystallize the memory before it was taken away whereas Steve had simply wanted to memorize the body he hoped to touch for years to come. Christian didn't know how to be happy anymore.

Christian's hands lingered, teasingly over Steve's dick which hardened gamely. But that wasn't the point of this so Steve moved Christian's hands away. Christian seemed to understand that it wasn't rejection, looking up into Steve's face and giving Steve a wet kiss, seemingly only wanting to be connected to Steve. There were smiles as they washed his each other's hair, more kisses flavored with shampoo but still amazing. They eventually stepped out, drying themselves though Christian moved close into Steve's space almost immediately. Neither had shaved, not wanting to take even more time, but Steve picked up the hairbrush, brushing it through both of their wet hair quickly, Christian tilting his head back like a child.

With the tentative plan of going out later, Steve just got out two pairs of pajama pants for them. Christian stuck by his side, needy of reassurance though Steve doubted that Christian even realized what he was doing. They made something quick to eat, fixing it together even though they were silent. Steve's thoughts whirled around in the silence and he eventually decided that there was no time like the present to get started on their band. Hopefully, it would not only be a distraction, but it would further remind Christian that he had a life here, with Steve, with their friends.

As they cleaned up the dishes, Steve asked, "So what have you been thinking about writing songs?"

And just like that, Christian seemed distracted. He was shy and insecure, but now at the thought of attempting something new. Steve didn't give up. "Wanna try writing something today?"

Cornflower blue eyes were open wide and vulnerable as they searched Steve's face. "Yeah, I guess." Christian's expression changed then, became more like a grimace, and Steve knew that he was thinking of failing.

"It takes time and practice so don't get too frustrated too quickly."

Christian nodded to himself before Steve went first out of the kitchen to grab the guitars. He handed them both off to Christian before grabbing some pencils and paper and they went to sit on the couch. "So what things had you thought about?"

Steve asked the question casually, half his attention on making sure another of his extra guitars was in tune. He just glanced up when no answer was forthcoming but Christian's expression caught his full attention. Christian was red with embarrassment, looking like he wanted the earth to swallow him. Steve still couldn't believe that after everything that Christian had been through, that the man could still be self-conscious about anything, that Christian still wanted to impress Steve. It was too adorable.

Christian finally started to talk, stumbling over his words like he did when he was embarassed or confused or excited. "I just, I wanted...I love the way you sound, but I..."

Steve sat forward in his seat, forgetting the guitar on his lap as he placed a hand on Christian's cotton-covered knee. "It's ok. There's no reason to be embarrassed. It's your first time, I'm not expecting Motzart. You were thinking about a different sound...?"

Christian bit his lower lip for a moment before starting again. "It sounds more country in my head, maybe Southern Rock even. Like the music I listened to when I was a kid."

Steve nodded his head in encouragement. "Ok, I can dig it," he said teasingly. "Did you have some lines or an idea for the song?"

"Yeah. I thought it'd start something like...Little bit of bourbon, and a broken neon sign..."

Steve was more than impressed with Christian first attempt to write a song. Christian had the idea for it and a lot of the pictures and emotions that he wanted to create, Steve just helped him find the music and some of the words. And if Steve had been expecting violence or depression, it wasn't what he got. Christian wanted to write a song about the guy that he had been, the guy that he could have, should have been. It just furthered Steve's belief that Christian could change, that he wanted to change.

And the more they worked on it, the more excited, determined Christian got, his worries and fears and guilt forgotten, even his self-consciousness. Christian ended up on the floor, alternating between the guitar and scribbling on the paper. It was like the man had been waiting his whole life for that moment, for the opportunity and support to do what he loved. They ended up working through lunch, not stopping until Steve insisted they put the guitars and the pencils and papers aside. Then he literally attacked Christian. "Holy shit! It's awesome! You're awesome, we are going to be great."

"Really?" Christian queried, his voice breathless from the tight hold that Steve had on him and the way that he was half-smothered by Steve's body.

"Yes, " Steve crowed, leaning down to steal what little breath Christian had with a kiss. Then, obviously fed up with being crushed, Christian shoved hard, pushing Steve down on his back on the floor suddenly covered by Christian whose eyes were shining. They made out there on the floor like two teenagers, as if they wanted to crawl inside the same skin, excitement and hope and nervousness expressed and shared. They ended up on their sides, propped up by couch pillows, still trading smiling kisses and soft caresses.

But eventually they had to get up, had to fix dinner and get dressed for the bar. Christian's mood slowly deteriorated throughout those activities until he was still and sedate as they got back into the car. Steve didn't know what to do to cheer his partner up, this was just something that had to be done. As he parked the car outside the bar though, he grabbed Christian as he tried to exit the car and pulled him into another kiss.

They didn't say anything, just got out and went into the bar, Christian standing tall with his shoulders squared, his face a mask that made Steve think that the man was walking into a firing squad instead. Everyone from the previous night was there along with Tom and Chad. It was awkward and quiet as they walked up. Steve had no idea how to start this conversation, but Christian opened his mouth, apparently ready to bite the bullet, and what a poor choice of metaphor that was...

But Jensen beat them all to it, standing from his seat and hugging Christian who was caught so off guard his face ended up mashed half into the taller man's shoulder. The hug was too tight and just long enough to make it the opposite of casual. As Jensen pulled back, he asked, "Are you ok?"

"Uh..." Christian floundered. "Yeah, of course..."

But it seemed Jensen's limit for bullshit had been reached. "Your head was bleeding."

Christian ducked his face for a moment, before he met Jensen's eyes and lifted a hand to the cut on his forehead. "It's nothing. Listen, I'm sorry."

David stepped forward then, placing a manly comforting hand on Christian's shoulder. "Hey, we understand. Those guys deserved to be knocked on their asses, but you were like Jason Bourne or something in there. Where'd you learn that?"

Steve stepped forward then before Christian could get out whatever bullshit story like he learned karate at the Y. "He just got out of the Green Berets." Green Berets just sounded milder than Special Forces, it's probably why the government used the name.

Christian and he shared a significant look, but Christian didn't seem betrayed, more sad than anything else, resigned. Awkward silence fell around them, and though Steve hated how uncomfortable it felt he sympathized with their friends. What did one say to that news? 'Congratulations'? 'That had to suck'? 'They taught you some awesome moves'?

It was Christian who finally broke it, his voice strong but honestly apologetic. "I shouldn't have done that..." he started.

But David cut him off, that manly 'let's not talk about it, it's in the past but if you ever need to talk about it, I'm there' that he did so well. "Those guys are fine and they were assholes anyway. We were more worried about you two. Guess we shouldn't have been since you seemed pretty able to take care of yourself."

The words fell out in the silence, David's confidence in Christian ringing clear despite the hand still on Christian's shoulder, the hand that said 'I'm here for you'. Everyone knew that it wasn't Christian's ability in a fight that had had everyone worried. But David just kept talking as if nothing at all was wrong, not wanting to dwell on it anymore than Christian usually did.   
"You gonna let me win at darts this time?"

And just like that Christian was swept away from Steve, David smiling and laughing already, his arm around Christian's shoulders still, Mike going with them. Steve practically fell into a chair, relief hitting him like a blow to the chest. Jared stood to go get Steve a drink, leaving Tom, Chad, and Jensen at the table. Ever considerate, Steve leaned into the hand that Jensen rested on his shoulder. "So things have been difficult?" Jensen asked.

The idea of actually being able to share what he had been feeling with someone else brought Steve to the edge of tears. He could barely respond when Jensen shifted him into a hug. "Yeah, you could say that," Steve finally managed to sob out. They broke apart when Jared set a bottle down, adding a squeeze of his own huge hand to Steve's shoulder in solidarity. And Steve was reminded that they weren't alone at the table.

He might never tell Jensen about how he came across Christian passed out underneath his hedge or those first days of amnesia or even that night of terror and what else Christian had been up to. But he wanted so badly to tell Jensen about how he had been feeling, frightened of Christian's past and the simple idea that that kind of violence existed, how he felt overwhelmed and unsure of what to do, helpless sometimes in the face of Christian's pain and self-loathing. But he also wanted to talk about how much he loved Christian, how great the good times were. Steve wanted to talk and remember how very worth it everything was.

It wasn't the time to go into it all so Steve just said, "I just want to help him so much. The things...that he's seen and done, he's had a hard time adjusting."

Jensen shook his head ruefully, obviously at a loss for words. "I can't imagine. But I'm here if you ever need to talk."

"I do," Steve said with a slight chuckle. Jensen chuckled too but didn't press for more now, also understanding that they were in a public location.

They joined the table's conversation, then. Tom had been keeping Chad occupied with swapping stories of their marriages, a subject Chad never seemed to tire of, bashing his ex-wife. Steve smiled. Tom had always been very polite and it was so like him to give them privacy like that.

Eventually Jensen floated over to the dartboards. Perhaps Jensen was making a special effort to get to know Christian now that Steve had made it clear that Christian would be staying, or maybe it was because Christian had defended Jensen in such a spectacular way. But Steve knew that's just how Jensen was, he wanted to help people. And Steve thought that the two men could become good friends.

It went so much better than Steve could have imagined, but now that he was thinking more clearly, he realized that he shouldn't have expected any different. These men were true friends that had defended them that night and then called to check up on them. They respected Christian's intention to protect Jensen. Steve really didn't need to elaborate on the difficulties that Christian had been having because they all understood that the reality of being in the Green Berets wasn't like the soldier fantasies that little boys had.

Except for Chad, naturally. Apparently he had been thinking over the new information in his ADD brain. "He was really in the Green Berets? Holy shit that's..." And that was all that Chad got out before his best friend Jared was smacking him upside the head.

Steve felt like he had to say something, not wanting them to tiptoe around it as he had in the beginning. "No, he can ask about it. But he really should talk to Christian, not me."

Glancing over at Christian, Steve saw that David and Mike were going to get drinks, Christian putting his wallet back in his pocket like his money had been refused. That left just him and Jensen and they quickly seemed to get involved in some kind of deep discussion. Steve wondered what about.

But Steve knew better than to intrude. And a little later the dart players sat back down at the table. And then Chad had his opportunity.

"Dude, the Green Berets? Why did you do that?"

Steve wanted to hold Christian tight, to whisper encouragement in his ear, but his lover was seated on the other side of the round table between David and Chad himself. But Christian didn't seem upset or on the verge of a freak-out or anything. Christian's expression turned comtemplative, rueful but he answered honestly if succintly. "Real world training and education paid for while you earn money for your family...wasn't all that it was hyped to be."

"Wait, your family...?"

Christian shook his head at Chad's leap with a small smile. "My mom and little sister."

David was there again, turning the conversation to different topics. Steve was becoming more and more convinced that David would be a good friend for Christian. David was a straight talker and wouldn't let Christian get away with saying he was fine when he wasn't, but at the same time David was as loyal as a well-trained dog and would protect Christian from everyone else. "And now you're gonna be a star," he teased.

Steve smiled and added, "We wrote a song today. It won't be long now."

The rest of the night the conversation didn't come back around to Christian's past. They talked about the future, David trying already to get Christian onto some kind of recreational sports team. Steve was more than a little afraid that eventually Christian would break, give in. He wasn't looking forward to attending any more games like that fateful softball season.

Steve didn't drink a lot and, of course, Christian didn't either and they got home late, still in high spirits.   
\-- -- -- -- -- -- --

The weeks that followed were busy, but great. They fell into a more normal routine. There were still nightmares and midnight confessions of Christian's horrific past, but there was also going to the grocery store and the gym. Songs were written and edited, guitars were practiced. There were more nights at the bar with friends who still accepted Christian and there were more gigs for Steve after which he would come down to find the guys around Christian like a protective shield, afraid for Christian, not of him. They even learned to spend time apart. Steve went out with Jensen, Christian with David. David's sports store was Christian's third home after Steve's house and the bar. Christian also spent several afternoons over at Jensen's house for a reason neither of them would share.

When they had a few songs, they filled in the rest of their band members, an easy prospect since the guys from Steve's regular band agreed. Steve was only slightly nervous about their bassist who had a tendency to cancel. Then Steve talked to his manager. A country band in LA may have sounded ridiculous but before Steve knew it they had a gig there. His manager was actually really excited about their sound.

The day before the gig, Christian was already nervous, practicing all day like his life depended on it. Steve finally had to take the guitar away before Christian ruined his voice before they got to LA.

"Christian, I know you're excited, but you've got to save your voice man."

Christian seemed as a reprimanded child as he nodded, his hands going between his knees as he fidgeted. Then Christian looked up, saying out of the blue, "I want to add a song to the list."

"What?"

"I...I wrote a song, for you. I was gonna just play it but I was too embarrassed and Jensen said that you'd probably cry..."

"Wait, what? You wrote a song for me? With Jensen?"

Christian's face flushed a burnt color as he nodded. With what Steve knew was a ridiculously pleased grin, Steve handed the guitar back, taking a seat. "I want to hear it." He wanted to attack Christian for looking so adorably embarassed but he didn't want to scare the man. Not before the song anyway.

Looking like a man on death row, Christian took the guitar back, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath. Then he started to play, not looking at Steve yet. "Livin' with me it ain't easy, I do it every day and sometimes even I, I want to run away..."

Jensen was right, Steve did cry, the tears falling slowly, one by one down his cheeks as Christian ended the song. He didn't know what to do, was stuck to the spot, his earlier plan of attack gone from his memory. Then Christian looked into his eyes, deliberately set aside the guitar and pulled Steve into his arms. Gentle fingers brushed away the tears and Christian's soft voice murmured words of comfort as he cradled Steve's form to his chest. Finally Steve calmed enough to understand what Christian was saying.

"It's true. You're more than I deserve, more than I could have hoped for..."

"No," Steve said, tears still in his eyes and in his voice, but he looked Christian right in the eye. "You're everything that I hoped for."


End file.
